MFEO
by cosmoandmarvar
Summary: One long drive, two lonely hearts and one little boy.  What happens when the words are perfect and the time is right, but the places are all wrong?  AH
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

**MFEO**

Definition: an acronym that stands for "made for each other."

_Edward and Bella are MFEO._

Numb.

It's the only way that I can describe the way that I'm feeling…or not feeling, actually. And I welcome it. I welcome it, because numb is so much better than the pain I know is waiting for me when all of this is over. When I'm not surrounded by all of the people in the world that love me…that loved her. When a minister that really didn't know all the wonderful things about her isn't standing before me and speaking words of comfort.

_Comfort_.

I swallow back the lump in my throat that holds the tears that I can't cry. Not here. Not now.

_Comfort_.

There is none.

So, I stand here, numb and stoic and feeling nothing. Except that's not the truth. Because even in my current state, there is something – _someone_ – that is able to break through the clouded grey that covers me in the sea of black suits and dresses.

Jacob.

He squeezes my hand that he's been holding and right here, in this moment, he is my comfort. I squeeze back, hoping to offer him the same thing in return. I brace myself before I look down. I briefly wonder if he is crying, knowing he probably is, but also knowing that my heart can't take it right now.

But I have to take it.

My thirty-year-old heart, though broken, is stronger and more equipped to deal with this than his seven-year-old one. So, I take a shaky breath and I look down at my son – _our son_ – and I force myself to look in his wet eyes that are still filled with so many questions.

Questions he hasn't been able to ask.

Questions I still don't know the answers to.

He looks just like her and overcome with emotion, I realize that there is comfort in that.

.

.

.

The people are filtering out now, but we still remain. My sister Rose and her husband Emmett are still standing off to the side. I can't see them, but I know Rose…and I know she's still here. Wanting to help. I feel a slight tugging on my arm and I look back down to Jacob.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did this happen?"

And there it is. The one question that I will never have the answer for. So, I do the only thing I can. I speak in subdued tones and I offer him the words that doctors and friends and family have offered me. And my head understands it…really, it does. But my heart…my heart never will.

"Mommy got sick, Jake. And I don't know why it happened. No one really does. There was nothing anyone could do, buddy. And I know it's not fair. But we can't keep asking why because we'll go crazy."

He looks back out at the cherry wood and the splay of pink roses that covers it and he doesn't look at me. And so I stand there, holding his hand, wondering if he will remember that pink was her favorite color…and knowing that I will never forget.

.

.

.

My name is Edward Cullen and today I'm burying my wife and my son is burying his mother.

And neither of us knows why.

.

.

.

**End Notes:**

Thank you for reading.

Please, leave us a review and tell us what you think.

Marvar: We promise this is the only emo chapter. I don't do angst.

Cosmogirl7481: Nope. She only does RobPatzLowe slash now. And Zefron is somewhere in the corner, watching and jerking off.

Check out our O/S for The Jukebox Contest. Love is On The Air. Alerts were fail when we posted it.

We own nothing. Edward, Bella and Jacob belong to Stephenie Meyer.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

**Marvar: So you came back? Some of you needed happy pills and a bottle of wine after the prologue. **

**Cosmogirl7481: Thank you for reading the last chapter. We apologize. We seriously thought funerals were funny. They're not? **

.

.

.

.

.

"Michael, I'll be fine driving by myself. I'll meet you at your parents' house tomorrow morning after I visit Alice and Jasper," I say as I kiss him on the cheek. To his credit, he only winces slightly. Michael is uncomfortable with displays of affection. He's uncomfortable with many things. Except for me. Well, most of the time. He has some new medication so that he doesn't sneeze whenever he gets near me. And he's built up a "tolerance" for my many germs. Michael is a great person and we are very comfortable together. He's like...an old pair of shoes.

"You did pack my vaporizer, right?" he asks with a touch of concern. He climbs into his car after wiping down the handle of his door.

"Of course, Michael. You remember that you touched it three times when I packed it?" I say patiently.

He seems reassured by my response, and buckles his seatbelt. I stop myself from rolling my eyes as he goes through his pre-driving checklist (ritual) of everything in his car. I briefly consider leaning on his mirror, but realize that would that would cause a minor panic attack. It would be funny, though.

Once he's done with his OCD inventory, he turns to say goodbye. "Bundle up so you don't catch cold," he says before he sneezes. "Oh, you already infected me. Did you pack my germ mask? Maybe we'll have to sleep in separate beds this weekend. I - I can't afford to get sick again," he stammers in a panic. I reassure him that I'm not ill and he is the one that's sneezing. He puts his car into drive and waves out the window. I know he's going to probably wrap himself into a plastic bubble until New Year's.

"Bye, Bella."

"Bye, Michael."

Yeah, separate beds, definitely. I sigh because I'm not upset; I'm relieved. He's a good friend and companion; there's just no spark, no...magic?

That's what I'm looking for. I've been looking for twenty-eight years.

.

.

.

Ugh, the Christmas music is driving me crazy. I know it's Christmas Eve, but I've been hearing these songs since Halloween. I change the channel, looking for something different. A voice catches my attention. The little boy's voice is sad and adorable at the same time. It's a call-in radio show and a boy is talking to a radio shrink. I can't help it, but I'm drawn in to his story.

"This is Dr. Jane Volturi and I'm speaking to Jacob from Seattle. Go ahead, Jacob," the slick voice says through the radio.

"Hi, Dr. Jane. This is Jacob. I'm calling because my dad needs a new wife." Oh, he's adorable.

"A new wife? What's wrong with the one he has?"

"My mom died a few years ago and he's been so lonely. He doesn't sleep or eat and I'm really worried about him. Dr. Jane, can you help him, please?" The boy continues to tell his story, obviously worried about his father. The shrink gets the boy to put his dad on the phone. It's then I hear the most melodic "hello" in the history of greetings. Ok, that's exaggeration, but I'm trying to make a point.

"Hello, Edward. You're on the radio with Dr. Jane Volturi."

"Who is this? You called a radio station, Jacob? I'm on the radio?" he asks, exasperatedly. He's definitely not pleased, but after much coaxing Dr. Jane gets him to talk about his late wife. His voice is warm and sweet, masculine and loving, as he speaks about her. I've never heard anything like it. I'm in tears as I'm driving and I want to comfort him from across the country. I'm hanging on every word.

"Edward, don't you think it's time to move on?" she asks.

"Dr. Volturi?" he asks softly.

"Call me Dr. Jane, Edward," she coos in a smarmy voice. I want to hit her. "I'm a friend, here to help you."

"No, you're not," Edward says while the same words escape my lips. I gasp and cover my mouth.

"Edward," she prods.

"I just try to make it through each day," he admits.

"Maybe you and Jacob deserve more than just getting by."

"Yeah, Dr. Jane, it's easy for you to say. But how do you find someone who is everything to you...again? It's like getting struck by lightning twice...or...or..." He struggles to find the words. In my car, driving to meet my boyfriend's parents, the words pour out of my mouth at the same time he finds the answer to his own question.

"It's like ...magic," we say together.

Have you ever felt drawn to someone you've never met?

Thousands of miles away from him, I am weeping in my car, wishing to comfort a man who I've never met. I feel like I know him and his son, but I need to know more. I can't explain it.

.

.

.

I arrive at Alice and Jasper's house too soon. I don't get out; I sit and listen to Edward tell Dr. Jane about Jacob and a knock on my slightly opened window causes me to jump and bump my head on the rear-view mirror.

"Ouch, Jasper!" I yell. "What the fu-"

"Isabella," he admonishes, "language." He actually makes a "tsk, tsk" sound. I roll my eyes at my uptight brother.

"I was listening to something."

"Yes, that harpy, Jane Volturi. How she calls herself a doctor is a travesty of the medical profession. You know she didn't even get admitted to medical school? She has an honorary doctorate from a glorified clown college," Jasper gripes. "Why are you listening to that drivel?"

"Um, I was bored?"

"Isabella, 'Boredom is the root of all evil,'" he quotes.

"Jeebus, Jasper. Don't start with the Kierkegaard. It's Christmas," I complain. There's no use in listening to Edward anymore with Dr. Stick-up-his-ass here. He's like a wet blanket. Made of tweed - like all his jackets since birth. I hear Dr. Jane sign off and I breathe a sigh of relief that I'm not going to miss anything.

"The fact that you know that's Kierkegaard redeems you."

"Yes, Jasper. All those years of playing 'Guess the Quote' with you in the car when we were kids finally paid off."

"I know! Exciting, isn't it?"

I laugh and Jasper looks confused by my reaction, which makes me laugh harder.

"Come in, Bella. It's getting cold," he insists.

"Don't get your starched khakis in a twist, Jasper."

Alice is waiting at the front door for us. She hugs me tightly and ushers me into the house. My best friend married my brother. Sometimes I think she did it as a favor so I wouldn't have to live with him anymore. But even she is not that selfless.

"Merry Christmas, Bells!" Alice trills. "I wish you could stay longer."

"Yeah, but I have to go to Mike's," I say, trying to hide my annoyance. Alice grimaces, not hiding her feelings for my boyfriend. She never liked him. She always says I'm settling instead of searching for my soul mate. And she says Mike is a dork. I can't really argue.

It's ok to think that your boyfriend is a dork, right?

"I smell cookies, Alice."

She grins as she pulls one out of her "Santa Claws" cat apron pocket and tosses it to me. She grabs another and pops it in her mouth. "You should've gotten here earlier. I had some Belgian chocolates that my dad sent me. They were delicious, weren't they, Jazzy?"

"I'll take your word for it, Darling. I didn't actually get to try any," Jasper says. Alice doesn't even look sheepish. She loves her snacks. Jasper doesn't care. He does whatever she says. I guess that's why he's so overbearing with me - she has him under twenty-four-seven control. And he might be hungry.

They make a great couple despite the obvious differences. She's an editor for a large newspaper and he's a prominent psychiatrist. He wears tweed coats with leather patches and penny loafers, and she is in a red velour track suit (her "eating" pants) and flip flops. Yeah, opposites attract.

"Isabella was listening to 'Doctor' Jane, Alice." Jasper actually makes air quotes.

"Oh, Bella. You know Jasper gets worked up when anyone mentions celebrity therapists. He thinks it's an insult to psychiatrists."

"It's a travesty. Freud would -"

Alice makes a sound like a hiss and Jasper stops his rant.

I giggle and Jasper gives me a dirty look. Alice motions to him to give us some space. He leaves immediately. I wish I knew that trick when we were younger.

"I know, Alice. But I was listening to a particular caller. I just couldn't stop. He was mesmerizing."

"Ooh, tell me about it." We sit down on her couch facing each other. She hands me a plate of cookies and mug of eggnog. It's our little tradition.

"His name is Edward and he has the greatest voice. He was talking about grieving and moving on with his life. He's a widower and has a son, Jacob. He actually was the one who called in to Dr. Jane."

"That sounds really emo, Bella."

"No, he was completely wonderful and sweet and...gah, so amazing." I continue to gush about the man on the radio and his adorable son that have captured my attention.

Alice stares at me with a strange expression. "Bella, he could be 'the one.' I've never heard you talk that way about anyone. Definitely not about Mike Newton, professional hypochondriac. Not even when you met that hot baseball player, Big Rod."

"A Rod, Alice."

"Whatever. All those yummy baseball players and you don't even notice."

"That's part of my job."

"Yeah, well. I'd hit that."

"Hit what?"

"Bella. Seriously."

"What?"

She gives me the look that probably makes my brother's balls recede into his groin. I give her my best contrite smile. I don't have balls, but Alice is scary.

"You are a beautiful, professional woman. You have an excellent job as the PR director of the Marlins. And you are dating 'bubble boy.'"

"He's not that bad." I make a half-hearted attempt to defend Michael. Okay, it's more like a quarter-hearted. Alice raises her eyebrow at my weak response.

"Things happen for a reason. What if it's fate that made you hear Edward on the radio? Maybe you are supposed to find him. Maybe it's a sign."

"Maybe." I laugh, because that's ridiculous, right?

"Bella, maybe you are supposed to have more than 'not that bad,'" she says, softly.

I sigh. She's right.

Definitely.

.

.

.

I leave very early in the morning to Michael's parents' house in Orlando. For once I'm not wishing that they retired in Boca like every other senior citizen because I hear the replay of Edward's call during the long drive.

It's a sign.

Edward. I say it aloud. It feels right, rolling off my tongue.

I greet Michael when I arrive at his parents' house. His name sticks in my throat and comes out like a cough. He covers his face with a handkerchief and takes a step back from me. I don't mind the distance.

I'm thinking about the distance from Miami to Seattle.

.

.

.

.

.

**End Notes: Thank you for sticking with us through the emo. Reviews would be lovely and sincerely appreciated.**

**Marvar: So Bella isn't dead. That will happen in our fic right after she leaves Edward for Jacob and right before we flounce Rob. **

**Cosmogirl7481: I don't know. I might have to flounce Rob if he poses on the cover of GQ with a top hat and a turtle. J/S**

**Follow us on twitter – marvar29 if you like Rob manips that show balloon knot and cosmogirl7481 if you enjoy Pringle can cock.**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N

Marvar: Many of you guessed correctly. This story is inspired by the movie, Sleepless in Seattle.

Cosmo: Kind of like the rest of our fic that's inspired by that movie with the vampires.

.

.

.

"Jake, it's a little late for you to be on the phone," I say as I walk downstairs and hear my son talking. "I don't care how late Leah's parents let her stay up."

When I see him, he is sitting on the floor next to the couch. Hiding. As if I won't be able to hear his voice.

"I see you, Jacob," I say, walking over and standing directly in front of him. He rolls his eyes dramatically and I have to force myself not to laugh. "Tell Leah goodnight, Jake. It's time to get ready for bed."

"Okay," he says, but I quickly realize he's not talking to me.

"Jacob," I say in a more reprimanding tone. "I said 'now.'"

His wide brown eyes look at me and for a moment, he looks scared.

"I'm not talking to Leah, Dad."

This surprises me, because he is _always_ talking to Leah.

"Who are you talking to?"

"A doctor," he says. "Dad?"

_A doctor?_

"Yes?"

He reaches the phone out and up toward me.

"Dad, she wants to talk to you," he says. "She thinks she can help."

.

.

.

I'm sitting here, completely shocked. And while I understand that there is a woman – a "doctor" – talking to me, all I can do is look at my son. He's looking at me with wide eyes. Like he's scared of how I will react. So, I do the only thing I can. I begin to talk to this "doctor." For him.

"I'll just go to bed," Jacob says, embarrassed.

"Oh, no you don't," I tell him. "If I have to do this, you're doing this with me, little man."

"How long has it been since your wife passed away, Edward?"

I wrap my arm around Jacob, as he scoots closer to me on the couch. He lays his head on my shoulder and he has so much hope in his sleepy eyes. Have I really been that bad? I thought we were getting by. I thought we were doing fine.

"Two years," I tell her.

"Two years is a long time," she says.

"Really?" I ask. "That's funny. It doesn't seem long. It seems like it was just yesterday that I came home from work and she was in the kitchen making brownies with Jacob."

"Tell me about your wife, Edward."

"What do you want me to say?" I ask. "Her name was Emily. She was wonderful, sweet…my best friend and Jacob's mother. She was…she was everything." I take a deep breath and I run my free hand through my hair. "Until she wasn't."

"How long were you married?"

"We were married for eight years, but she'd been a part of my life forever. High school sweethearts," I say, as I laugh dryly. "She was the second girl I ever kissed, and after I met her, I never wanted to kiss anyone else. She was amazing – this funny and smart, independent woman who could knock you over with her wit, but she still believed in fairy tales."

Jacob's eyes are drooping and he snuggles in closer to my side. His breath is evening out and I know he's going to go to sleep soon.

"Fairy tales?"

"She loved Disney movies. She watched them incessantly. Not the funny ones. She loved all the princess ones…you know Snow White and Cinderella. And she would watch them all the time. Jacob loved them, too. Mostly because of her. She said it was good training for him. She wanted to teach him how to be a prince."

"That sounds really sweet, Edward."

"It was," I admit. "They would lie on his bed at night and instead of reading him a story, they would watch, as the princess got her happily ever after. I used to try to get him to watch movies with me. You know…boy movies," I chuckle as I remember. "Toy Story or The Lion King. And he didn't want any part of it. The movies were their thing…together. And who wouldn't prefer that? She was much nicer to cuddle with than me."

Doctor Jane laughs a little and even though I know that she doesn't really know or care about me, I find the sound soothing. Or maybe, it's talking about Emily. Honestly, I'm not sure. I try to ignore the fact that I'm talking on syndicated radio. Thank god Emmett only watches sports or True TV.

"Jacob loves you," she says. "It's the reason he called. He's worried about you."

And once again, I'm left wondering where I've failed him. I don't want him to worry. He's so young and he's had to deal with so much. He has settled down on the couch now and his head is resting in my lap.

"He's the best part of my life," I admit to her, running my fingers through his hair that is beginning to grow out. He wants to grow it long. Emmett tells him that long hair is for hippies, but Jacob tells him that chicks dig long hair. "He's the reason I force myself to get out of bed in the morning. He's exactly what makes every day bearable. When he smiles, he looks just like her, but there are pieces of me in him, too."

Jacob shifts and his hand is clutching the end of my shirt. I look down at him, his face so peaceful in his sleep, and I know that what I'm saying is true. He is the most important thing in the world to me. I love him more that anyone…anything.

"Doctor Volturi?"

"Yes, Edward?"

"Do you think that I've failed him?" I ask. "That I've been a bad father?"

There's silence for a minute and just as I'm beginning to think that I really have been a terrible father, she speaks.

"I think you have obviously raised a smart, funny, engaging, and independent little boy. I'm fairly certain that everyone listening is in love with him," she says chuckling. "I don't think he would be who he is, Edward, if you had failed him as a father."

Her words calm me because I know she's right. I know that I have done my very best to give him everything he needs. But still, somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm still wondering if it's enough. Does he need more?

Do I need more?

"Edward?" she asks, interrupting my thoughts. "Don't you think it's time to move on?"

"Dr. Volturi?" I respond quietly.

"Call me Dr. Jane, Edward," she says in a voice that is pleasant, but I know holds the slightest insincerity. "I'm a friend, here to help you."

"No, you're not," I tell her, knowing exactly why she wants to keep me talking. This makes for good radio, right? But this is my life. Jacob is my son.

"Edward," she pushes me further.

And finally relenting, I tell her the truth. And not just her, I'm saying it to myself, as well.

"I just try to make it through each day," I admit and even as I say the words, I know that's exactly what I'm doing…what I have been doing.

"Maybe you and Jacob deserve more than just getting by."

And her words are right. Not so much for me, but for him. He does deserve more than just getting by. He deserves happiness, and love and home that surround him with both.

And something deep inside me stirs and wakes. Something – some part of me I thought I'd let go of forever. I am lonely. I am so, so lonely. I miss Emily. Every single day I miss her, but I also miss the comfort of having someone there with me. Someone warm next to me in bed…someone I want to hold.

"Yeah, Dr. Jane, it's easy for you to say. But how do you find someone who is everything to you...again? It's like getting struck by lightning twice...or...or..." I don't even have the words to use to make a comparison. I was so young when Emily came into my life. Romantically, I've never really known anything else. She was perfect for me. To find that again would be like… "It's like ...magic."

.

.

.

After I hang up the phone, I sit here watching Jacob sleep for the longest time. I don't want to move. Not from the couch and definitely not forward in my life. But the truth is, I'm wondering if it's time. Is it time for me to take those first steps? Is it time for me to put myself out there again? The idea of dating seems so foreign.

Jacob shifts and I know I need to get him to bed. It's so late. So, I lift him up into my arms, grunting softly because he's gotten so big, and I carry him up to his bedroom. As I'm settling him down into his bed, his brown eyes open and look at me.

He's nervous.

"Are you mad at me, Dad?" he asks.

I kneel down onto the floor next to him. My eyes are level with his as my fingers run through his messy hair that probably matches my own.

"I could never be mad at you, buddy," I tell him. "Not even for calling a radio station and making me talk to Doctor Jane and half the country."

"Do you really think half the country was listening?" he asks through a yawn.

"I don't know," I tell him, laughing softly. "Why were _you_ listening to a radio talk show?"

"Leah likes talk shows like that," he says, and I begin to wonder if she was listening, too. "She says that the human psy…psy…"

His nose scrunches up like he's trying to figure out the word.

"Psyche?" I ask, trying to help him figure out the word and wondering why my son even knows what the human psyche is.

"Yeah, that," he says, nodding his head. "She says it's really interesting. And that some people are dark and twisted."

I bite back a laugh and try to look at him seriously.

"Well, I don't think you need to know about anything dark and twisted."

He nods his head in response, his eyes drooping again.

"Aren't we doing okay?" I ask. "I mean…I thought…I thought that we were doing okay with just the two of us."

"We are, Dad," he tells me. His head is resting on my hand as my thumb strokes the skin of his jaw. "I just don't want you to be lonely anymore."

And my heart swells and breaks all at the same time.

"I'm not lonely, Jake. I have you."

He rolls his eyes again – another thing he's learned from Leah.

"I mean a woman, Dad," he says in all seriousness. "What's going to happen to you when I grow up and move away?"

"Where are you moving?" I ask him. "And when are you supposed to be growing up?"

"I'll be grown up when I'm sixteen and can drive a car," he says. "And Leah and I will be moving away and going to college."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," he nods his head as enthusiastically as he can.

"Well, I'm glad you're going to college," I tell him. "Are you going to be a lawyer like your Dad? And where are you going?"

"No, lawyers are boring," he says. "We are going to Hawaii. Leah wants to be an artist and I want to be a surfer."

"And they have a college for that in Hawaii?"

"Duh," he says and I chuckle.

I lean in and hug him one more time, happy that he's still young enough to enjoy it. Visions of him at sixteen and driving fill my mind and I push them way in the back. I've had enough to deal with for one night.

"Goodnight, Jacob," I tell him. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"I know," he says. "And I love you, too."

I get up and make my way to the door of his bedroom, shutting off the light on his dresser.

"I meant what I said," he says sleepily and I turn back to look at him.

"About what?"

"I want you to be happy, Dad," he says. "And I don't think you're happy…not really."

His words are said with simple truth and so much emotion that they cause my eyes to water and my throat to constrict.

"Are you happy?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says. "I am."

As I close the door, I focus on that. His happiness and his words.

.

.

.

"It's too fucking late for you to be calling me," Rose says as she answers her phone. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," I tell her. "Everything's fine."

"What's going on?"

I decide to cut right to the chase.

"Do you think it's time for me to move on?" I ask. "You know…start dating again?"

She's quiet for a minute, which is completely unlike her.

"Are you ready for that?" she asks.

"I don't know," I tell her. "Maybe."

"What brought all this on?"

"Jacob," I tell her without elaborating further. I'm sure I'll have to tell her about the radio fiasco eventually, but I've had enough humiliation for one night.

"I think that when you're ready," she says, "the right person will come along."

"I already had the right person."

"I think there can be more than one right person, Edward."

"Really?" I ask. "You think that there's someone else out there that could be just as good for you as Emmett?"

"Absolutely," she says. "But there is no one better for him than me."

She laughs and I realize that while there are a million reasons I love my sister, the ability to diffuse tense situations with humor is one of the best ones.

"You're probably right," I say.

"I know I am."

"I don't even know how to go about dating," I admit. "Like, I don't even know where I would meet someone."

"Well, don't ask me," she says. "I've been married for a thousand years. And the only two single women I know are Lauren and Jessica….and you can't date them because they're whores."

I snort at her delicate way of phrasing things.

"Have you considered online dating?" she asks.

"I've barely considered _dating_."

"What I said was true, you know," she says, her voice softer than before.

"What?"

"When you are really ready…the right woman will come along."

We say goodnight shortly after and the words of my sister and my son stay in my mind. I crawl in bed, looking at the empty side next to me before I close my eyes. And as I fall asleep, I wonder if magic really can happen twice.

.

.

.

.

.

End Notes:

Thank you so much for the positive response. We appreciate every review.

Please leave us some love.

Follow us on Twitter (cosmogirl7481 and marvar29) for the latest in Zefron porn, Golden Girls femme-slash fic, elf love, and other nonsense. Maybe you'll even see some Rob…you remember him, right?


	4. Chapter 4

AN:

Cosmo: So, did you see Reese at the WfE premiere? Her dress was gorgeous.

Marvar: Who? I only saw Rob.

Cosmo: Oh, right. The gorgeous man with the burgundy tie. Yeah, he was dreamy. But I

think he has a girlfriend.

Marvar: In my head, I'm his girlfriend.

Cosmo: Okay. Well, since we're being honest. In my head, he's always naked. With a cock

that's always hard. And glorious.

Marvar: My love for Rob is pure and chaste.

Cosmo: So, the peen porn collage you posted on twitter was a message of chaste purity? Good to know. I am the chastest motherfucker ever.

Marvar: You are, Cosmo. (Everyone on Twitter laughs hysterically)

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 3

"Are you going to finally tell me about it?" Alice asks as we push our carts through the supermarket.

"There's not much to tell. A little bit of crying, but mostly it was amicable."

"Really?"

"He stopped after a while. It wasn't that bad." I stop in the snack aisle. "Chipotle ranch or plain ranch?" She knows I'm evading her questions. It's not that I don't want to tell her, it's just that it's a bit embarrassing that I didn't see the obvious. I pride myself on being a perceptive person.

Alice laughs before she answers, "Both... Ooh, Funyuns."

I snort as I put two jars of dip in the cart. Alice is staring at the bags of chips like she might rip one open. Well, she might, but she still remembers the unfortunate "Publix Market" incident. Alice, PMS, and bagged snacks are not a good mix.

"You need to fatten up after losing all that dead weight over the holidays," she jokes.

I roll my eyes at her. I know she means Mike and not Christmas pounds. You'd think that I'd either eat my weight in chocolate or cry endlessly over ice cream. But it was embarrassingly easy to break up with my boyfriend of a year. "Shut up, Alice. How about you? What about your holiday diet?"

Alice laughs. "Like I've lost weight. Your brother is still around, isn't he?" She winks and then she changes the topic. "Where's the pina colada mix? I have half a mind to make Jasper wear a Hawaiian shirt under his sport jacket tonight."

I snort.

What?" she asks. "It reminds me of our honeymoon. Jasper was so...rwar," she purrs.

I try not to hurl on the Funyuns.

We finish our shopping, but it takes forever because it's New Year's Eve and everyone is out buying booze and junk food. Maybe not as much as us...but still - it took a while. When we finally get into Alice's oversized SUV - Jasper bought it because she's a horrible driver and wants her to survive her inevitable fender benders - I spill.

.

.

.

_**The day after Christmas...**_

_"Michael, don't you think that there's someone special for you out there? Have you felt your pulse race and your heart soar?"_

_"No, frankly that sounds like the signs of heart failure. Was your arm tingling?" _

_"No, Michael...I meant...Well, I want that for me. And you should want it, too. We are really good friends...but it's not enough for me anymore. I need more than this. You are a good man, Michael. You deserve love. We were just…not, you know, in love. "_

_"So you're breaking up with me? Is this about my Christmas present? I thought you'd like the steam cleaner. I got it in stainless." _

_"Yes, Mike. I'm breaking up with you. We'll be better as friends. That's really what we are right now, if you think about it." _

_The surprise on his face turns to sadness. "I can't say I'm happy about this..." _

_"I'm sorry, Michael."_

_"You should be, Bella," he spits out. Ok, so this taking a turn for the worse. I try to put a good spin on this. _

_"Michael, some 'friendly' advice...no woman wants to receive a humidifier for her birthday or a steam sanitizer for Christmas. And just think, maybe you can find someone who doesn't have so many germs."_

_"But I had just developed a tolerance for yours." His slight whine and his teary eyes reaffirm my need to do this. I wonder if he's crying about losing me as a girlfriend or thinking about all that new allergy testing._

_"We both deserve more than 'tolerating' another person. I'm looking for..." My voice trails off. _

_"What, a fairytale prince? Right," he scoffs._

_"That's the problem, Mike. You don't believe...and I didn't either...until now." _

_"Now you want...magic?" He says it with scorn. But the word reminds me of Edward, the man who captured me over the radio, and I need to believe that it could be real. _

_"Yes. I deserve more than the ordinary." I don't add that that's exactly what he is...I'm trying to be nice, here. But Mike is ordinary. And Edward, in my mind, is more. Much more. _

.

.

.

.

.

"So do you need a steamer or an industrial-sized humidifier, Al? I happen to have both lying around. I think I'm going to venture into the dangerous world of non-moistened air," I state as I flop down on her oversized couch. I take a swig from my very alcoholic drink. Jasper is getting so good at bar tending. Alice has trained him well.

Alice snickers - while eating a Snickers. "Bella, it's fucking Florida. The air is wet already. Sir Sneeze-A-Lot was a freak. It was like a rainforest at your place. Do you know how much I spent in hair-care after visiting you? I rocked a 'Monica from Friends' after every visit." I give her a confused look and she explains. "You know, when she was in Barbados and then she gets the braids?"

"Oh, I love that episode!"

"Me, too. Anyways, I'm glad I don't have to wear a shower cap to your condo anymore."

"Shut it. You only did that once." I laugh uncontrollably when I realize what I put her through. And I might be a little buzzed.

"Careful, Isabella. You might tinkle on my couch," Jasper says as he walks in the room. He places a tray of hors d'oeuvres on the table. "So what are we chatting about, ladies?"

I notice the Hawaiian shirt and look at Alice. She shrugs her shoulders. We both erupt into a fit of giggles as Jasper stares at us.

"Nothing important, Jazzy. Just the fact that your sister finally dumped that germophobe. And you are really filling out that shirt, babe."

"Thank you, dearest. I have been playing a bit more badminton. I've really improved my stroke on the shuttlecock. And have you seen my calves? Quite muscular, if I do say so myself," Jasper brags. He turns around and shows his backside to Alice, rising on his tip toes and lifting his pant leg. I nearly gag on my pina colada with thoughts of Jasper's shuttlecock and calves. Not surprisingly Alice is almost drooling. Alice mouths "later" to my brother and licks her lips. Jeebus. He's like an aphrodisiac wrapped in tweed.

Well, someone had to find Jasper hot. Eventually. You know, law of averages and all that.

"Bella, though I'm delighted to hear you dumped that ball of neuroses, I am concerned about your mental health, post break up. I can schedule you for an appointment next week. I may also have some samples of some anti-depressants in my bag."

Alice emits a very unladylike snort as she channel surfs. "Jazzy, after breaking up with that loser, Bella and I might need some downers. We are both that thrilled. Now, where is my nacho dip? 'Sleepless' is on cable."

"Oh, I haven't seen that in forever. Tom Hanks isn't hot, but Meg looks good."

"She should have left her face alone. Her plastic surgeon should be shot," Alice insists.

"Alice!"

"Wha-at?" she asks, innocently. "Whatever. Jasper, get the shots ready. We're going to play a drinking game." He dutifully marches to the bar. Alice proceeds to explain the rules (however ridiculous they are - I mean how do you decide if Meg has bad hair?) and we watch the remainder of the movie. Twenty minutes later all three of us are completely drunk. Well, Jasper and I are. Alice can hold her liquor and snacks. Honestly I don't know where she puts it. She should be the size of a sumo wrestler.

"Bella? Does this movie seem familiar?" Alice asks. "Like what's going on with Edward?"

"Hmm…a little."

"Well, I hope it's not too much like your life because there was no sex in this movie…and you really need to get laid." We both start giggling and I hand her a shot.

"Hey, Bell? I have an itty bitty surprise for you," Alice trills in her happy voice. She pulls out a rolled sheet of paper from her cleavage (which is ample - I always tease Jasper about his mommy complex) and hands it to me. Jasper has passed out and is snoring peacefully on Alice's lap. I'm drunk enough that the close proximity of his mouth to her crotch isn't completely grossing me out.

"Um, have you heard of a pocket...or a purse? This is damp from your boob sweat. Yuck!" I moan.

"There are no pockets on my jeggings, Bell. Duh. Just open it."

"It says 'Edward Cullen' and there's an address in Seattle. So?" She waits a moment for it to sink in. "Oh my god, Alice!" I squeak.

"I used one of my personal contacts to get that from the radio station. You better name one of your babies 'Alice' or something. Wait, never mind. I'm named after a sitcom waitress. My brother got the good name - Blake Carrington Brandon..."

"Alice," I interrupt her rant about her mother's obsession with television, "so what do I do with this?"

"You write him. Like in the movie. But write something that's not lame."

"He'll think I'm crazy."

"Tell him you're not," she says, as if that simple explanation would be enough to make this man think I'm not a complete and total lunatic with boundary issues. "And maybe send him a nude shot. Tasteful, of course."

"He lives in Seattle. I live in Florida. There's no point."

"Duh. There's ...Phone sex...Sexting...Skype sex..."

"That's a lot of sex."

"Right?" She grins and swallows another shot. She doesn't even wait for Tom Hanks to smirk. She hands me one and I knock it back. One more shot will really boost my confidence...or make me pass out.

"I - um."

"You are grasping desperately for excuses and finding none."

"I'm doing this?"

"You're doing this." She says this with an air of finality that gives me confidence. I want to do this. I don't know if it's the excitement of the unknown or the mysterious appeal of Edward or the many drinks I've imbibed tonight. Alice pulls out a legal pad and pen from the desk drawer and hands me both. I sit down and start writing as Alice finishes off the rum balls.

_Dear Edward,_

_Hello. My name is Isabella Swan. I am the PR director for the Florida Marlins. But that's not why I'm writing. It's because I heard you on the radio and I've been thinking about you ever since. Thinking about you in a normal way…not sexual or anything…that would be wrong…not that I wouldn't have sex with you. I'd have to meet you first or whatever. _

_I have never done anything like this in my life - you know, writing a complete stranger. Ok, that's a lie because my job requires me to write letters and emails all the time. Sorry. I meant that I never wrote anyone because I heard them on the radio and thought they sounded like an incredible person. Yeah, that would be weird. But I'm not, I swear. I can provide proof of my sanity. My brother is a psychiatrist. _

_You sound like a wonderful man and even better father. Jacob sounds like an amazing little boy. _

"Alice, read this. Does it sound good so far?" I hand it over to her. "I don't want to sound desperate." Yeah, the mere fact that I'm writing to a strange man like I'm a mail order bride isn't desperate at all.

"Ooh, the sex stuff is good. Let me take a picture of your boobs to put in here."

.

.

.

My eyes pop open and I roll over to stretch. And promptly fall off the couch. Crap. I fell asleep in the living room. I see Alice's bra thrown across the bottle of tequila and I'm glad I missed the live version of the Alice and Jasper Sex Show.

I smile and shake my head, dimly recalling the last shot of the night when Alice drank it out of Jasper's freakishly deep navel. Gross. I don't want to picture his stomach again. I wonder what Edward's abdomen looks like? I hope it's _muscle-y_. Mike didn't have abs - sit-ups gave him "stomach problems" - code for diarrhea. Double gross.

I bet Edward does sit-ups and doesn't have irritable bowels and is hot like Bradley Cooper...yeah, who am I kidding? He probably looks like Alice Cooper.

I should ask him in a…_I wrote him a letter last night_! My mind tries to recall the drunken ramblings...no, I just explained about my job and my interest in him... I got an idea from the movie...and maybe offered him sex...

Holy shit. I better grab that and rip it up. I jump up and scramble to the desk where I think I put the envelope. I'm searching frantically for it when Jasper strolls in the front door.

"Happy New Year to you, dear sister."

"Jasper, did you see a letter lying around this morning?" I ask, the desperation in my voice evident.

"Are you having a panic attack? I have some breathing exercises for-"

"Jasper, the letter?"

"Oh, the one addressed to Seattle? Yes, I just dropped in the mail box. No need to thank me. I was out doing my calisthenics, anyway."

"Where's Alice?" I ask in a tiny voice. I'm trying not to cry. I'm pretty sure I propositioned a stranger in another state. That might be a federal crime or something.

My brother smirks. "She probably won't be up for a while. She needs some recovery time. See you later; I'm off to perform my morning ablutions."

With that, he saunters down the hallway. If it wasn't so horrifying to think about my brother, the sex god, I'd be impressed. But back to me and the horror that is my imaginary love life.

Maybe it will be ok. Maybe Edward will read this letter and realize that I'm his soul mate. Or possibly a stalker.

It's a fine line.

.

.

.

.

.

End Notes: We love your reviews. Leave us one.

Follow us on Twitter: Cosmogirl7481 and marvar29 for peen porn collages and Reese Witherspoon updates. Cosmo also tweets chaste porn and sometimes I tweet about abs. And we are both committed to sharing the hotness that is Robert Pattinson.


	5. Chapter 5

AN:

Cosmo: So, I'm back from vacation. Kinda tan and only slightly hungover.

Marvar: I'm like that all the time.

Cosmo: Not all of us can be hot Latina women with an affinity for margaritas and shots of Patron. I only fall in the last two of those categories.

Marvar: *wipes tear* That's one of the nicest compliments ever. I also like piña coladas.

Cosmo: And getting caught in the rain?

Marvar: Only with Edward.

Cosmo: I made out fine with Edward in the Caribbean sun and a daiquiri. And by "made out," I mean swam with him naked while he sparkled.

.

.

.

_What the fuck am I doing?_

My hands are sweating as I walk into the bar. Sweating. I am three seconds away from turning around and walking out. I don't think I can do this. I pick up the phone to call Rosalie, but she isn't the one to answer.

"Don't pussy out, man," Emmett says.

I roll my eyes.

"Why are you answering Rose's phone?" I ask, irritated. I don't know if the irritation is because he's right or because he's calling me out on it.

"Because as soon as I saw your number, I knew what you were thinking."

"I don't know if I can do this," I tell him. "I don't know if…I don't know if I'm _ready_ to do this."

"Listen," he says. "She's a nice woman, Edward. And by nice, I mean _nice_. In all the right places." His tone is suggestive and not lost on me at all.

"You know I don't care about that."

"I'll tell you what I know," he says. "I know you're a man…and all of us care about _that_ on some level."

I fume slightly at his words.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" His request pulls me from my thoughts.

"No," I say without thinking.

"Seriously, man," he says. "How long has it been since you got your dick wet?"

"What?" I hiss.

"And I don't mean wet with some sad bottle of lotion you hide in your nightstand."

"I'm hanging up now, Emmett."

"Edward, just wait. All I'm saying is that I know it's been a long time. I'm not trying to downplay what you've been through. But I think that this is the healthiest thing you've done in a while. And I'm glad the munchkin took action and called that radio show. You need to at least try to move forward. I'm not saying you have to marry this girl, it's just drinks. But you need to get back out there."

His words seep in and I know they're right. No matter how crass they might be. And my dick…well, it's been dry for over two years. Although, I did soap it up a little too long once or twice in the shower. Water counts as getting it wet, right?

"I'm a single dad, Emmett," I tell him. "What if she doesn't like me? What if she doesn't want to get involved with a man who has a son and…and all this baggage?"

"First of all, I already told you. It's just drinks – not an arranged marriage. And if she doesn't like the munchkin…she's not the right one. Besides, I hate to break it to you, Edward…everyone likes the kid more than you, anyway."

I laugh, releasing some of my tension.

He's right.

It's just drinks.

.

.

.

I order a beer and wait at the bar. My palms are still sweating. I hold onto the bottle with both hands, hoping that she'll just think it's condensation when I shake her hand.

Do I even shake her hand?

Is that appropriate?

Of course I'll shake her hand. It's not like I'm going to kiss it or anything. I'm not a member of the royal family…or gay.

"Are you Edward?"

I am pulled from my thoughts by the sound of a woman's voice behind me. I turn to face her and she is exactly as Emmett described. Pretty…almost too pretty. She's polished and put together and there's not one single red hair out of place.

And fuck me…there's no way that _those_ are real.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Edward," she purrs. Her voice is soft…seductive even. "My name is Victoria."

.

.

.

When I walk in the house, Angela is sitting on the couch watching a movie.

"Where's Jacob," I ask.

"He's already in bed," she tells me and I look down at my watch and realize that it's almost eleven.

Wow. I was out longer than I thought I'd be.

"How was your date?" she asks.

"It wasn't a date," I tell her. "It was drinks."

"Well, that must have been a lot of drinks. Are you sure you should have driven home?"

I stammer a bit at her insinuation.

"Yes, Angela…I'm sure. I was perfectly safe and responsible."

She laughs and starts collecting her things.

"How was he tonight?"

"He was good…awesome. Leah was here for a while."

"Of course she was," I chuckle.

"They were working on some sort of project for school. Her mom picked her up around eight."

"Thanks so much for being able to watch him on such short notice."

"No problem," she says. "Anyway…everything here should be fine. Jacob had his bath and I put your mail on the kitchen counter. Just call me if you need someone to watch him again, Mr. Cullen."

"Absolutely," I tell her.

We say our goodnights and I make my way to the kitchen. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and I sort through the mail on the counter. It's mostly bills and junk-mail, but a hand written envelope catches my eye. The letter is addressed to me and the postmark is from Miami.

Hmmm…

I don't know anyone in Florida.

Well, except Mickey Mouse. But I don't know him personally or anything.

I laugh at my own stupid joke.

I throw the letter back on the counter, deciding that it's probably some marketing scheme trying to sell me a timeshare. I go upstairs and I peek through the crack in Jacob's door. He's sleeping soundly, but his covers are everywhere except on top of him. I walk over and cover him up. He moves a little, but doesn't wake up. I kiss him on the forehead and whisper, "Goodnight, buddy. I know you don't understand everything, but I want you know – your Dad took a big step tonight. And it's all because of you. Thank you, little man. I love you."

I kiss him once more and head to my room.

Once I'm changed and ready for bed, I turn on the TV and mindlessly flip through channels. Nothing is catching my interest and I find that - for some reason – I can't stop thinking about the letter from Miami downstairs. My curiosity is getting the best of me and I wonder if it's worth the trip downstairs to go and get it. It probably is exactly what I'm thinking. I try to shrug it off and focus on David Letterman.

Fifteen minutes later, I find myself walking downstairs. I reason with myself that I'll be able to sleep once I know exactly what it is. I take it from the counter and just as I'm about to open it, I hear Jacob's voice.

"Dad!" he yells. "Dad, are you here?"

Taking the letter with me, I run upstairs and into his room.

"I'm right here, Jacob," I tell him, kneeling down beside his bed. "What's going on?"

"I had a bad dream," he says, yawning. "And you weren't home before I went to bed."

I crawl in bed beside him and pull him into my arms. He's tired and his body sags against mine as I hug him close. I wonder how long I'll be able to have these moments with him. He's growing up in so many ways.

"What was the dream about?" I ask him.

"I don't remember," he says. "My heart was beating so super fast, though."

"Are you okay now?" I ask, as he yawns again. "Do you want to come sleep in my room?"

"No, Dad," he says and I can envision him rolling his eyes. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

"I know, buddy," I chuckle. "I'm pretty sure you've already explained that to me."

I hug him one last time before getting him settled back into bed. My fingers rumple his hair a bit and I ask him, "Do you want me to leave your light on?"

"No," he says as his eyes close. "I'll be fine. Goodnight, Dad. I love you."

And my heart swells at his words and I choke up momentarily before I can respond. Every time he says them, it fills me with this…this overwhelming emotion. Not just love, but happiness. Peace. This is all I want. To be a good father…to raise a good son. There can't be more than that, can there? But I know there is more. I had more. My life was perfect…and now I know I'm missing something. Someone.

"I love you, too, Jacob," I whisper. "So much

I turn off the light and head over to his door when I hear him call me again.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you could leave my door a little bit open and the hallway light on?" he says. "You know…in case I need to go to the bathroom."

I chuckle quietly to myself.

"I think that's a good idea, buddy."

Once I'm back in my room, I settle myself into bed. I roll over to turn the light off, when I feel the crunching of the paper in my pocket. I had completely forgotten about the letter. I quickly pull it out and open it. I am completely unprepared for what I find inside…

It's not a sales pitch.

It's a letter.

To me.

_Holy shit. It's a letter to me._

Not just a letter, but a handwritten letter…from a woman.

I stare at the piece of paper. I can see the words on the page and yet somehow, they're all blending together – blurred lines of white paper and blue ink. And pretty, feminine handwriting. I force my eyes to focus and I begin to read the words.

Her words.

_Dear Edward,_

_Hello. My name is Isabella Swan. I am the PR director for the Florida Marlins. But that's not why I'm writing. It's because I heard you on the radio and I've been thinking about you ever since. Thinking about you in a normal way…not sexual or anything…that would be wrong…not that I wouldn't have sex with you. I'd have to meet you first or whatever._

I am immediately embarrassed that she (all the way in Florida) listened to me on that radio show. It seems strange that someone would hear me – my story – and not be able to stop thinking about me. Surely, this woman is unbalanced at the very least.

"She has a real job," I reason with myself. I'm pretty sure it wasn't out loud, though, talking to yourself in any capacity can't be good. Maybe I'm a little unbalanced, too.

"Isabella," I say her name out loud. It feels good.

I wonder if she actually goes by Isabella or if she has a nickname of some sort. The only Isabella I know is Isabella Rossellini. Again, much like Mickey Mouse, I don't know her personally. I wonder if either of these Isabellas would even speak to me – much less write me a letter – if they knew how lame I really was. Probably not.

I try to envision Isabella in my mind. She's probably nothing like the Italian beauty I know of. Brunette, dark eyes…gorgeous. If this woman is writing me, she's most likely not only crazy, but maybe…probably…well, not hot.

But still…

There is something about her name. Something that makes me tingle when I say it again.

"Isabella."

Did she really write that she might want to have sex with me?

A man she doesn't even know?

Well, she did say that she would need to meet me first.

Fuck.

I shift uncomfortably in bed and read on. Well, I am not uncomfortable, but I'm pretty sure my dick just twitched. And there's not a shower or soap anywhere in the vicinity. Maybe Emmett was right. Maybe I do need to get my dick wet.

_I have never done anything like this in my life - you know, writing a complete stranger. Ok, that's a lie because my job requires me to write letters and emails all the time. Sorry. I meant that I never wrote anyone because I heard them on the radio and thought they sounded like an incredible person. Yeah, that would be weird. But I'm not, I swear. I can provide proof of my sanity. My brother is a psychiatrist._

See? She's not crazy. She has a medication-prescribing brother to ensure that all of her chemicals are balanced. This is not frightening or concerning at all.

I wonder if she really has never done anything like this before. I mean, people say shit like that all the time. No, really. I _never_ watch porn. And no, officer, I _never_ drive over the speed limit.

But really…what are the odds that she would write random strangers that she hears on the radio? And why was she even listening to the radio? Didn't that become obsolete with the invention of the iPod?

I read on further.

_You sound like a wonderful man and even better father. Jacob sounds like an amazing little boy. He called the station because he loves you so much. It must be wonderful to have someone care for you like that. Not that no one loves me. I'm lovable. My ex was just a douche. He was into sanitizing everything - I'm not that clean. I mean, I'm clean like I take showers and stuff. That would be gross if I didn't. I'm just saying he was weird. But I digress._

When she mentions Jacob, my heart stops and I have to re-read the words. She's right. He did call because he loves me. He called because he was concerned and he wanted me to be happy. She saw that…or rather heard it. When I spoke to Victoria about Jacob, honestly, she didn't seem that interested. She didn't seem to be put off by the fact that I have a son, but I could tell that she didn't really know what to say. I wonder if this Isabella has kids. She would have mentioned that, right?

I can't help but chuckle at her rambling about being clean. And then I'm thinking about her in the shower. I'm going with the vision of the brunette…because yeah, a hot brunette in even hotter water will make for nice dreams. I really hope she's not blonde. Not that I'm considering this or anything. Obviously, that would be crazy. She lives in Florida and I live in Washington. We could literally not be any further apart. Yes. Definitely crazy. And I don't have a medication-prescribing brother.

_Edward, do you like baseball? I hope you do because I love it, hence the career choice. Hopefully you agree that it's the greatest sport ever. Maybe if we meet we could go to a game. I can get great tickets for the three of us - including Jacob of course. _

Something about the way she just includes Jacob pulls at me. Not just my body…but my heart. And baseball is the greatest sport ever. Well, except for basketball. Ugh. She lives in Miami. She's probably a LeBron fan.

_Would you want to meet me? Probably not after this letter. Hahahaha! I would like to meet you...at the top of the Empire State Building. No, wait. That's been done and there's really nothing for Jacob to do there. How about at Disney World on Valentine's Day? At noon in front of the castle. Jacob loves Disney stuff, right? Just make sure that you get on the plane with him because I just saw a movie where the little boy was on the plane by himself and I totally freaked out and I don't want Jacob to get hurt or anything because he has to be a fabulous kid. _

She wants to meet me?

At Disney World?

Wait.

There's a movie about this?

Why have I never seen it?

There is no way I'm flying to Florida to meet some woman who wrote to me because she heard my sad story on the radio. This is all insane.

Then why am I even still reading her letter?

Because I can't stop.

I realize that in the last few minutes of reading her words, I have experienced more laughter than I have in two years.

It's disconcerting.

It's surprising.

I don't want to stop.

_Edward, I feel I have to be honest here...I fibbed a bit when I said "nothing sexual." I had a few dreams - nothing porny. Very tasteful. Let's just say you were portrayed in a favorable light (You are very hot in my dream, not that looks matter. Your voice is enough). I realize that I have now written two lies in this letter, and my credibility will probably be called into question because of that and the whole you not knowing who I am and semi-stalking you thing. _

Her self-deprecating humor makes me smile. And the fact that she's dreamed about me in a tasteful, non-porny way is doing things to me. Well, doing things to my cock. As I read her words again, I realize that I am erect.

Fully erect.

I have to stop myself from reaching in my pants and taking my cock in my hand. That would be completely inappropriate, right? She thought I was hot. Well, she imagined I was hot…in her dreams. Fuck. This woman dreamed about me. Not only dreamed about me, but she wrote me a letter to tell me that she did. I find myself wondering what kind of woman would actually do that. Is she crazy? Or just really honest? I'm hoping it's the later and truthfully, not at all concerned that I'm thinking about her – Isabella – in this way.

She said she liked my voice. I wonder what her voice is like. Is it sexy and seductive like Victoria's? Or is it sweet and soft…and vulnerable like her letter? I'm imagining that it's soft…real and open the way she seems to be.

_You don't even know her, Edward. _

This is just a fantasy that can never really happen because of the implausibility of it all.

Ridiculous.

Then, why am I still reading?

_I hope that you don't hold that against me. I just want to try, Edward. Did you ever get a feeling for someone, like you needed to know more about them? That's what this is. So I'm hoping. Yeah. Hoping. _

_Yours, _

_Isabella_

And I do get that feeling. I totally have that feeling of needing to know more about this woman right the fuck now. There's something so simple…so sweet about the way that she's opened herself up to me like this. Just…something about her. And she's telling me that she feels the same way about me.

She wants to know more about me.

Hope is a funny thing. And you don't realize how much you need it until you feel its absence. I haven't hoped for anything that didn't concern Jacob in so long. And tonight…I took a big step. I went on a date with an attractive woman. I made conversation with her that was pleasant and engaging. So, why? Why after that am I thinking about someone else?

This woman in Florida?

Isabella.

_PS Alice took the picture of me. Just so you know that I don't have pics lying around or whatever. I'm not into myself like that. I just thought you might want to see what I look like. Not that it will convince you or something or looks are that important. They're not. I mean...not that much. _

_PPS (from Alice) _

_I know you are totally hotter than Big Rod! Send me a shirtless pic to: jaliceofthis(at)gmail(dot)com. _

Holy shit!

There's a picture of her?

She actually sent a picture of herself to me?

And who the fuck is Alice…and Big Rod?

I flail frantically, looking for the envelope that I discarded in my bed somewhere. I throw back the covers and rise up on my knees to look for it. When I find it, I grasp it in my hand like I've just discovered water in a dessert. And I'm so fucking thirsty. Realizing that her picture is inside, I loosen my grip and gently open the envelope. My hands are shaking. No seriously…they're fucking shaking. I take out the picture and turn it over in my hands…and I gasp.

Is that…?

_Is that a picture of her breast?_

My cock thinks so because it's currently poking through the opening of my boxers.

I look at her breast. The picture is a bit blurry, but fuck yes….that is Isabella's breast. Not her whole breast…but it's enough. Christ, it's definitely enough. Does she even realize that her friend took this picture? From the angle, there's no way that she could have taken it herself. It looks full and soft. Her skin is creamy and white – pale like there's no possible way that she could live in the sunshine state. And most of all…most of all, her breast looks real. Not perfect, but fucking beautiful and real. And suddenly, I'm imagining what it might feel like to hold it in my hand? To feel it in my mouth?

I am fantasizing about this woman that I don't even know.

And thinking of nothing else but her…I fall backwards on my bed and I take my cock into my hand and I begin to stroke it. I want to feel embarrassed. Not because it's wrong. I'm human and I have needs. But she – Isabella – has made me feel these urges I haven't felt in so long. So, laying there like a teenager with his first Playboy, I hold and stare at her picture, while I get myself off with my own hand. It's skin against skin because I don't have a "sad bottle of lotion" in my nightstand. And I really fucking wish I did.

Nothing has felt this good in years.

And when I come, her name is on my lips…and I try not to think about that as I clean myself up.

I'm pretty sure the faceless brunette with the funny, honest words and beautiful breasts make up my dreams. Sated and still-bewildered, my eyes close. And for the first time in so long, I don't have a problem falling asleep.

And it's so fucking good.

.

.

.

End Notes:

Thank you for reading. Please leave us some love. We read and adore every single review.

Follow us on twitter: (cosmogirl7481 and marvar29) Marvar is currently looking for GlassesRob pics and Cosmo is currently tweeting Robporn and raving about Kurt's sex hair on Glee.

Back to our regular posting schedule now. Update next week.

A note from Cosmo: Marvar is nominated for the Best Beta in the Sunflower Awards. Please, vote for her. She deserves it because she really is the BEST BETA EVER.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N**_

_**Marvar: So everyone likes drunken Bella letters. Maybe we should write a fic with letters or emails or something. **_

_**Cosmogirl7481: Are you drunk now? I'm pretty sure we did that.**_

_**Marvar: Tipsy, and sending you an email. Maybe we can do a sequel. **_

**Chapter 5 **

.

.

.

.

.

"Alice!" I yell as I knock on the door to her room. "Get decent and get out here. Or forget about decent. This is an emergency."

A few moments later, Alice emerges wearing my brother's shirt and a pained expression. "What the fu-"

"Alice," I interrupt, "Jasper mailed it. I'm going to die. Like actually die of embarrassment." I cover my face with my hands. Alice grabs my wrist and pulls me into her bedroom and onto her bed.

"Geez, relax. There wasn't anything bad in it. I read it before you put it in the envelope."

"Well, you, unlike me, are shameless."

"True. And you don't even know what Jasper and I did last night." I groan loudly at that information and remove my hands from the bed. Alice is not known for being a neat freak. "But you have nothing to worry about. You didn't take any of my suggestions. And you wouldn't take off your top for the photo. If he doesn't write back, it's probably because you didn't show any nipplage."

"Holy shit, I forgot about the photo. Wait, what do you mean by 'nipplage'?" Flashes from the letter flood my brain: Jacob, Disneyworld...sex. Oh, the horror. I'll probably be brought up on charges. "OhmigodAlice." My voice is so high, I could probably crack a glass. Alice winces and rubs her temples. She rummages through her drawer and takes out a bottle of pills. She swallows a few with some water as I wait, nearly hysterical.

"I'm so glad Jasper can write prescriptions."

"Alice!"

She grabs her phone, scrolls through it, and tosses it to me. "It's a good look for you." I take one look and nearly faint. It's my boob. She sent a picture of my right boob to a man that I've never met.

"I didn't pose for that," I offer, meekly. I'm rubbing my temples now too. Alice tosses me two pills, which I swallow without water.

"You were leaning over and your cleavage looked spectacular. You should really wear tank tops more often."

"Why one boob?" The defeat is evident in my voice.

"I was going for a 'Picasso' feel. Thought artsy was the way to go. You know, classier."

"Yeah, boobie pics can lean towards tasteless sometimes. And taking pictures of people's faces is so passé. Glad you went another direction."

She barks out a laugh and I join her. It's either that, or cry.

"You know I wrote that I would meet him at Disneyworld," I say with a pillow over my head. "And I said I had sexual thoughts about him."

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, Bella. What's the worst that could happen? He'll think you're crazy and ignore it, or maybe, he'll think it's hot that you want him. Maybe he'll send a picture back. You know, tit for tat. Or...tit for pec...or tit for cock." She laughs at her little joke, and I hear her mutter something about sending that pic to her email, but I could be mistaken due to my highly agitated state.

"Or maybe I'll be indicted for sending porn through the mail and stalking. No biggie."

"There wasn't even nipple, Drama Queen. Sheesh. Jasper, please give your sister a valium or something. I'm not giving her any from my stash." My brother walks in wrapped in a towel, and Alice smacks his ass. He winks at her, and I roll my eyes. I should have left the pillow over my face.

"Ugh, Jasper. Make sure that towel is on tight. I'm traumatized enough."

"Isabella, I told you that I can make an appointment for you this week if you are having issues," he says from the closet. He emerges wearing his usual uniform of khakis and a button-down shirt.

"I'm fine, Jasper. Other than a small complaint about your highly efficient mailing capabilities, there's just a misunderstanding. Your wife and I differ in opinions on acceptable levels of exhibitionism, that's all."

"She's very uptight, Jazzy. She really needs to relax. Too bad your 'special' relaxation techniques can't be taught," Alice coos.

Jeebus, I don't want to know anything about how he gets her to relax.

"Alice, darling, you know I love when you let everything loose and free. It's so...primitive. You know Freud wrote-"

I interrupt before Jasper goes on his rant that will undoubtedly disturb and/or bore me. Once he gets on a "sex" kick, my gag reflex also kicks in. I go with the one phrase that will get Alice out of her Jasper haze, "Let's eat."

.

.

.

.

.

A week goes by with no word (or warrant for my arrest) from Edward. I've gone from mortified to somewhat angry.

"How dare he not respond to my drunken ramblings? He could at least have sent a note back. Or like, you know, a restraining order." I complain to Alice over lunch. "The sad thing is that I didn't get to show him what I'm really like. I didn't get to put my best-"

"Boob," Alice interrupts.

"...forward," I finish. I glare at Alice for the umpteenth time this week. "No more boob jokes."

Alice holds up her right hand in concession. "All right, Bella. I was running out anyways."

"Yeah, anyways...as I was saying...I should have handled that differently. If I could just talk to him, he might be interested. Or at least I could get over this obsession."

Alice squeals (it's not an attractive sound) and makes jazz hands (which is preferable to her hands on Jazz). "Bella. You need to go to Seattle. See him. Talk to him. Either you'll come back madly in love, or you'll be over him. It's win win."

"Really? That doesn't seem desperate and crazy?"

"Of course it is. But you are also the same person who fell for a guy over the radio and sent him a letter while intoxicated. That's like the 1950s version of an anonymous drunk dial. Desperate and crazy is a step up."

I can't argue with that logic.

"I'm going?"

"You're going."

"I'm going."

.

.

.

.

.

The sky is uncharacteristically clear, and the sun is shining brightly when I arrive. I take it as a positive sign. When I used to visit my dad for the summer, it was usually overcast. I drive my uncool rental car (tan sedan, anyone) out of the airport and head towards Edward's house. Luckily my phone gives me perfect directions, because I haven't been to Seattle since my dad retired and moved to Florida.

I'm so nervous. My thoughts are a swirl of doubt - like a soft-serve cone of emo. I think about Alice's final words to me at the airport (that it would be ok to "hit it and quit it"), but focus on when she added, "Bella, I have a really good feeling about this." I want to take those words to heart, even though my best friend has a dismal track record when it comes to predicting the future. Seriously, a carnival palm reader has better accuracy.

The neighborhood where Edward lives is tree-lined and lovely. It's probably a great place to raise kids. When I get close to his block I pull over and try to regain my composure. I check my make-up and give myself a pep talk. When I'm ready, I drive slowly up the block and park across the street. I hope no one thinks I'm a predator casing the street. That would be creepier than what I'm actually doing here, which is merely casing Edward's house.

"Ok, Bella. It's time," I say to myself. I'm reaching for the door handle when a little boy runs out into the large, fenced yard. He's laughing and tossing a baseball into the air. I remain in my car, just watching the scene unfold. I know it's Jacob. Just then, a man emerges from the front door with a glove. He chases after Jacob and tosses him in the air. The man is tall, muscular, and gorgeous. Jacob hugs him tightly and then scampers across the yard for a game of catch. Oh my god. That's Edward. It has to be.

I watch the object of my affection and his son play catch for a while until I suck up enough courage to actually exit my car. I walk across the street and make it onto the sidewalk before Edward notices me.

"Hey, how's it going?" he calls out when he notices me walking towards them. Jacob smiles at me, and I can't help but smile back.

"Hi," I call out.

"Hi, are you here to see me?" Jacob asks excitedly.

"Um, yes. Of course I am," I say brightly.

Edward's blue eyes are shining. "Hi, I'm Eh-"

"Jake! Your lemonade is ready." An unbelievably beautiful blonde woman steps out onto the porch with a tray of drinks. Edward rushes to her side and kisses her full on the mouth. For a split second, I'm frozen in my spot. No. He's not taken. He can't be. I snap out of my stupor and realize I can't handle this whole Norman Rockwell scene. I turn away quickly, ignoring Edward's voice requesting me to come back. There's no point. He has obviously moved on and is no longer lonely.

I jump into my car as quickly as possible and drive. I don't get very far before I break down. I mean, emotionally. Not the stupid car I'm driving. I feel like such a fool. That's why he never responded to my letter. The phone call I got all worked up over was probably a recording from months ago. My tears are quickly followed by snot-sobbing. Wow Edward, look what you missed out on. Drippy, snotty, Bella. I bump my head against the steering wheel a few times to emphasize my humiliation, and then I start driving to the airport. There's nothing more to do.

After wiping my hand (because honestly it was gross), I call Alice.

"What happened?" She answers on the first ring.

"Ahhhhhgh!"

"Oh, fuck. That bad? I'm guessing you're not calling from his bed."

"Um, no."

"He wasn't that hot?"

"He was insanely hot. Not really what I expected, though. In my sex dreams he was less muscular, you know swimmer's body."

"Mmm, yeah. Love when a man can rock a Speedo."

This guy was super buff."

"Well, that's not a deal breaker."

"No, but his girlfriend was. There was a woman there. She was beautiful. He was beautiful. Jacob was beautiful. It was like a photo shoot for hot families. He has a perfect life. There's no need for me. I was an idiot for flying here."

"Bella, you are not an idiot. At least you know that nothing can come from this. You can get over it now."

"Right. I'm just going to wallow for a few more hours. Then I'll be ok."

"You'll be great, Bella. I'll start making a list of eligible bachelors in the area. I think Big Rod is single again."

"I love you, Alice."

"I love you, too. Let me know when you get in. We'll pick you up. I didn't tell Jasper what's going on, though. He might want to hypnotize you or something."

"Bye, sweets."

"Lubs."

.

.

.

The airport bar is large and dimly lit. Perfect. There are only a few people scattered around at tables and a couple at the end of the bar. This is good, because I don't have to worry about a whole "singles" scene right now.

I freshen up in the bathroom, washing away the tears and hopefully all of the snot. I just want to feel sorry for myself and drink this day away.

I find a seat at the bar and order a seven and seven. I was going to order a fruity drink, but I decide not to dilute the alcohol too much. Let's not kid ourselves. I'm here to get drunk.

Fuck it.

"Can I get you something else, sweetheart?" the bartender asks. He's an older man with a really bad comb-over and a creepy voice, which means he's going to hit on me. Such is my luck.

"Um, bring me another, please?" He skillfully prepares my drink and throws in extra cherries with a wink. Thanks, buddy. You were hot in like 1960-never. But then again, who am I to judge? I didn't even get far enough with Edward to get properly rejected.

I suck down the rest of my original drink and start on the second. By drink number four, I'm feeling pretty good and have thought of good curse words to call Edward and his Barbie girlfriend. Because I'm not bitter or anything.

I am very mature.

And a little...like this much (I pinch my thumb and forefinger together) drunk. Yay! I accomplished one of my goals on this trip. Now to find the bathroom and accomplish a bladder evacuation.

I spend some time brushing my hair and fixing my makeup when I see my reflection in the mirror. I am emo right now, but it's really not an excuse to look shitty. I do have some pride. Not much, considering my recent actions, but still.

I walk back toward my seat, but I notice there's a man standing right next to my stool. A very tall man...with broad shoulders and an amazing ass. He's just wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and his attractiveness is still palpable. Oh my. If the front is one tenth as good as the back, I might pass out.

_Wantsomeofthat._

Cue flirty Bella. I need to get my groove back. I saunter over to my seat and cross my legs suggestively. Well, ok, I just cross them so I'm not flashing my thong. Then I turn to check out HottieMcAssman's face.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

Forget about his ass. Just for a second. Because that's really yummy and demands attention.

He is, hands down, the most perfect specimen of man I have ever seen. And I know hot baseball players and famous people. His lips alone make me want to cry. And then nibble on them. Because you don't waste that opportunity. Green eyes, sinfully, magically delicious jaw (another lickable spot - who are we kidding - I'd lick everything on him), blondish-red scruff. My mouth hangs open - it's probably hoping he'll stick his tongue in there.

My former confidence is now wavering in the presence of such raw beauty, but I manage to form a smile from my gaping mouth. He turns to face me completely, and his answering smile is blinding. Like he has little diamonds flashing in his teeth. And he's not wearing one of those bejeweled "grills."

"Hi," I squeak out. He's smiling at me, and all I can do is say "hi"? Pathetic.

He looks a little nervous, shy even, which only serves to make him more attractive. Like he needs it. He runs his hand through his perfectly tousled hair and then leans on the bar.

My breathing is becoming labored. He's like one those "hotspots" in a house fire that sucks up all the oxygen.

"Hi. I'm-"

"Superfuckinghot," I blurt out.

Yeah. It's not one of my classier pick-up lines.

.

.

.

.

.

**End Notes:**

**Thank you for the reviews. We enjoy reading every single one.**

**Follow us on twitter: **

**Cosmogirl7481: I'm reading BDB and falling in love with other vampires. Some of whom have cocks as big as wrists.**

**Marvar29: I tweet occasionally. Sometimes I'm coherent. I love NO other vampires except for my Edward. (I also have a tiny crush on a misunderstood white-blond wizard – damn that ltlerthqak and her Dramione recs.).**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **

**Marvar: So some people wondered if you flounced the fandom for **_**BDB**_**. **

**Cosmogirl7481: No...I just flounced Jasper and Emmett for Rhage, Rehvenge and Zsadist. I still love Edward most. His cock is as big as my ankle. Plus, most of the fandom is reading with me.**

**Marvar: ::Gasps:: I just can't quit them. Well, maybe Emmett for Draco. **

**Cosmogirl7481: And here I thought you'd give Jasper up first...**

**Marvar: No. I'd **_**give it up**_** to Jasper. Not give him up. **

**Cosmogirl7481: I simply don't understand how you can support my love of Harry/Dobby and not my love of the Brotherhood.**

**Marvar29: Um…**

**[The rest of the A/N is censored due to the possibly inflammatory nature of certain comments made by one of the authors (starts with Mar) concerning certain names (with unnecessary consonants) used in a certain series that features brothers with huge cocks].**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Chapter 6**

.

.

.

.

.

There is nothing worse than an airport.

Scratch that.

There is nothing worse than coming to the airport to pick up the woman you've only been out with twice, just to find out that her flight has been delayed. I wonder if she'll still want to have dinner after. And I'm surprised to find myself hoping that maybe she'll be too tired from her travel to want to do anything. Although, based on the awkward kiss we shared at the end of our date four nights ago, I'm thinking she'll probably still be up for doing something. Emmett told me that the third date is typically the night you "seal the deal." I haven't "sealed the deal" in over two years. Not with anyone else anyway.

I close my eyes and groan quietly as I remember it. The kiss – well, it was awkward for me. I'm pretty sure it wasn't awkward for her. At least it didn't seem awkward for her as she opened her mouth and let her tongue slide across my lips. I'm pretty sure that Victoria wanted me to do the same to her, but I just…couldn't. Something didn't seem right. Maybe it was the overpowering flavor of wintergreen breath mints – like she chewed four Altoids right before. Or maybe it's because she was the aggressor. No…aggressor isn't the right word. Even if her mouth _did_ feel pretty aggressive. Is this what it was like now? Do the women kiss the men? Apparently, they do. Along with sending pictures of a beautiful, _mostly_ exposed breast.

_Fuck_.

Isabella.

As I think about the picture, I can't help thinking that I feel bad for not reaching out to her after reading her letter. I wanted to. I really fucking wanted to. I actually Googled the Florida Marlins. Turns out, they don't have a picture of their PR Director on their website. But even though I don't know what she looks like, there hasn't been a day that I haven't thought about her since I read it.

For the first time.

Yes, I have read the letter more than once. And I blush as I think about the fact that there have been a couple of nights that I've taken the picture out of my nightstand drawer. It's now beneath a bottle of Nivea lotion. I don't know why I chose Nivea. It seemed like the most masculine bottle there was in the pharmacy. I mean, the bottle was blue. Not pink with flowers or shimmer shine. The last thing I need is for my cock to sparkle. I haven't used the lotion…yet. But I might want to.

Eventually.

I just can't reach out to her, though. Not because she isn't smart or funny. Obviously, she is. It's just that I know that there is absolutely no possible future for the two of us. She lives in Miami. I live in Seattle. It just can't work.

Can it?

No. It can't.

Great. Now, I'm asking myself questions…and responding.

But I don't know if it can work out with Victoria either. She's nice, but I just get the feeling that she's not the right one. She says all the right things and she's certainly beautiful. Even if some of her beauty is of the silicone variety. And that's another thing about her that kind of turns me off. I mean, if her breasts are fake, I wonder what else about her is artificial. And I really don't like Splenda. No matter how good it is for me…I'd rather have sugar.

Real.

Sweet.

With a rush of energy…and not a lingering aftertaste.

Feeling frustrated and honestly, a little guilty…I decide to stop in one of the airport bars for a drink while I wait for her flight to land. Emmett and Rosalie are with Jacob and aren't expecting me home until late tonight. Stepping into the bar, I am surrounded by the soft glow of the low-hanging lights. The room is fairly dark and there doesn't seem to be a lot of people inside. I walk up to the mahogany bar and order a beer. I take a drink and scan the room once more. I'm about to turn and sit down, when I smell the most wonderful fragrance. Soft and light and perfectly…feminine. It hits me immediately. It's intoxicating in its subtlety.

It smells like sunshine.

While I'm breathing in deeply, I get the oddest feeling. Have you ever felt like you knew that someone was staring at you? Even if you can't see them. Well, my ass has that feeling right now.

Seriously.

My ass.

I hear the chair next to me move – well, I feel it more than hear it. This soft, warm energy. Electric and pulsing around me. The hairs on my body stand on edge like I'm surrounded by static. And suddenly, the smell of sunshine is closer. It's all around me and I feel a bit light-headed. And it can't be the beer. I've only had one drink. For some reason, it reminds me of summers at the beach in La Push when I was younger. I can't explain the trigger…I just know it's there.

I turn to the side and all the breath in my body exits in one quiet gust. Sitting next to me, is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

Ever.

She's staring right at me…her perfect, pouty lips slightly open. Well, maybe a little more than slightly open. They're open…and I can see her tongue. It's pink, too…suspended in her mouth like she's about to lick her lips. Fuck, I really want her to lick her lips. To get them wet and maybe bite down just a little. And almost like this perfect vision before me knows what I'm thinking…she does just that.

Did I just groan?

Maybe it was a whimper.

Hopefully it was just in my mind.

I can't help myself. I take in the whole of her body. The delicate length of her neck…the full swell of her breasts…the slender legs she has crossed on the bar stool. Good Lord! I'm staring at this woman. Like a fucking idiot. My eyes shoot back to hers and amazingly, the sunshine is there again. It's not just in my nose and my mouth as I breathe in – it's also in the perfect, almost-shy smile she gives me. I try to return it. I'm sure I look like a fool, but I can't seem to care.

"Hi," she says. Her voice is small…quiet. Like she's afraid that she'll scare me. Do I look scared? Does scared look like fumbling moron? It must.

My name.

I need to tell her my name.

"Hi. I'm…"

"Superfuckinghot," she blurts out.

And just like the idiot I am, I laugh at her words. Her hand reaches up to cover her mouth and then both of her hands hide her face. And that is unacceptable. Her creamy neck is covered in a pink blush and I want to – no, I need to – see that blush on her face.

"Ohmygod…ohmygod…" she says, the perfect sound of her voice muffled by her palms. She looks up at me, her eyes slightly glazed over and peeking at me from above her fingers. I don't know where it comes from – this courage – but I tentatively reach out and pull her hands away from her face.

Ah…yes.

Just like I expected.

Her blush is beautiful. She's a painting of pinks and browns. Her skin…her hair…her eyes.

"I can't believe I just said that," she says. "No…scratch that. I can. Apparently, I'm all about the inappropriate lately. First New Year's Eve…and coming out here…and now this. Yep. This all seems about right…" she rambles. Though I have no idea what she's talking about. She seems to compose herself, sitting up straight. "I'll just be going now…"

And at her words, I panic. I don't know why I panic, but the pounding in my chest is telling me that I am. And mostly…it's telling me that I don't want her to go.

"Please," I say. "Don't go. Stay…umm…" I rack my brain trying to figure out what to say to make her stay. "Let me buy you a drink."

"You want to buy me a drink?" she asks, seemingly surprised. Why? I have no idea. Surely she isn't lacking in male companionship. Fuck. She's probably married. This just gets better and better. I am in a bar offering a married woman a drink. I covertly look down at her left hand, releasing a shaking breath when I see there is no ring on her finger.

"Yeah…ummm…sure," I tell her. Well, that sounded like I really meant it. "I would love to," I add. "What are you having?"

"Fourteens," she says.

"What…?"

"You know…fourteens!" she says laughing. "Seven and Seven. Get it?"

She snorts. It's loud and uncensored…and basically perfect.

Real.

I laugh along with her…and her face relaxes some more. The bartender brings her drink over, winking as he puts in like three or four cherries. I try not to scowl at him and him lame attempt to try and charm her. It doesn't work, though. He takes the hint and walks over to another person at the bar.

"Do you…umm…" _Dammit._ I can't form a complete sentence. "Did you want to sit here…at the bar? Or maybe we could go sit at a table?" I ask, hoping she'll want to come and sit with me away from the creeper-bartender and his wandering eyes.

Her mouth is open again…and yes, I'm looking at her lips and tongue again as well.

Of course she doesn't want to sit with you alone at a table. She doesn't even know you…freak.

But she nods her head and says, "Yeah…sure. A table would be nice."

She picks up her drink and slides off the stool. Like, she actually slides as if she were liquid.

"Wait," she says, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Do you live here? Or are you…you know…just visiting Seattle like me?"

Fuck.

She doesn't live here.

"Yeah…no…I live here," I tell her.

"_Offff_…course you do," she says with a deep exhale.

"Why?" I ask.

She looks at me as if she's thinking about what she should say…or maybe if she should say it. Her nose scrunches up and her teeth bear down on her lips. I see in her eyes the exact moment she decides to keep speaking.

"Because apparently, Seattle is like…I don't know…some Mecca where hot, dreamy men are bred and kept. With perfect hair…and voices…and jaws…and…" she trails off, shaking her head and looking at me.

Did she just imply that I was hot and dreamy? Again? I don't even know how that's possible. I'm pretty sure my bottle of Nivea lotion is laughing in the drawer right now.

I lead her to an empty booth in the back corner of the bar. Perfect. No one else is around and I don't have to worry about other men staring at her.

What the fuck?

Why am I acting and thinking about her like this?

A moment of clarity sets in and I remember that I am here…picking up another woman soon. I feel guilty, but when I look at the woman next to me…I can't care.

"So…" I say, huskier than I intend. "You think men from Seattle are…hot and dreamy?"

I wanted to say me…but I couldn't pull off thinking that _she_ could actually think that about a single father whose idea of a good night starts with doing homework and ends with David Letterman. Or Jimmy Fallon when I can't sleep.

Fuck, I'm lame.

"Yeah," she says, without an ounce of sarcasm anywhere in her voice. "I do."

There a trace of something else in her right now. Not just honesty…but something…something else. It's almost sad. I recognize sad. Hell, I understand sad probably more than anyone. I wonder if someone hurt her. And then, irrationally, I want to know who the fuck would do that, so I can hunt them down and beat the shit out of them.

No…seriously.

What the fuck?

"What's your name?" I ask, wanting to know…needing to know.

She takes another pull of her drink and she looks at me for the longest time. Seconds…minutes… I can't be sure. All I know is that I can't look away from her eyes as they stare into mine. And it's not like we're standing off. It's like she's seeing something…accepting something.

"Can we not do that?" she asks. "You know? The whole name thing? Do our names really matter when I am going to get on a plane in a little while and return to the world of…? Well, let's just say that my world isn't a Mecca for perfect men. And you…well, I don't know what you do here in Seattle, but you live here and I…I don't. So, I would just like to sit here with my drink and pretend that the hot man next to me is actually interested…you know…in me."

Her eyes haven't moved from mine and her words are playing on a loop in my mind. She's right. I know she's right. She doesn't live here…and this is exactly the reason that I never sent a return letter to Isabella. But right now – here in this moment – she is here. She's beautiful and real and funny and…well, she's perfect.

So, I speak what I'm thinking…without filter…and without regret.

"You don't have to pretend that I'm interested," I whisper, leaning in and breathing her soft sunshine scent. I reach out my hand and push her hair back from her neck. It's soft like silk and I want to run my fingers through it. Her breathing hitches and even though it's been a long fucking time since I've been with a woman like this, I'm pretty sure she would let me. I don't know where all this is coming from. The courage…the inhibitions. But when her ear is exposed, I let out a sigh and I whisper directly into it, "I am."

Because it's the truth.

Because I want her to _know_ it's the truth.

I pull back to look at her. Her eyes are open and wide…dilated. And even in the dark of the room, I can tell that her blush has deepened. I have a moment of anxiety, as I realize not just what I'm doing, but who I am. I am Edward Cullen. I am a single, widowed father. I don't go to random bars and hit on women. I've never wanted to…not ever. I married my high school sweetheart. We went from dating, to married, to parents. There was never anything like this. And I'm not sure if I can do this now.

My eyes are pulled to her throat as she swallows. The hollow there is lovely and her creamy skin stretches out until it disappears under her top. I want to see her collarbone that's hidden from my eyes. Hell, right now, I even want to lick them. And I'm pretty sure I'm blushing, too. Although, it might be hard since all the blood in my body had moved south and directly into my cock.

No…I definitely want to do this.

Biology is screaming at me to do this.

My breathing is labored, but I notice hers is, too. Does she want this like me? Can she possibly want this like me? And I don't know what it is about this woman…this practical stranger to me. But for some reason, she doesn't feel like a stranger. She feels familiar to me in ways I don't understand.

There's a connection – a connection that I haven't had with Victoria. I wince as my mind thinks of her, but I push it back. This – _this connection right now_ – this is what I have been missing with her. This is why the kiss was awkward. It has nothing to do with my being out of practice or wintergreen mints. It has everything to do with the fact that I didn't really want to do it. I felt like I _needed_ to do it in order to get back out in the game. A game I didn't really want to play.

Looking around, I notice that no one is watching us. I turn back to the beautiful brunette and I tell her, "I want to kiss you."

The warm gush of breath from her lips covers me, heats me…gives me the courage that I need. And even though she looks surprised for reasons I can't imagine, I know I'm going to do it.

I am going to kiss her.

I am going to feel her lips against mine.

"Will you let me?" I whisper, needing to ask because I don't want to take from her. I want her to give. I want her to want this as much as I do. "Will you let me kiss you?"

My body tenses as I wait for her response.

She wants this.

_She has to want this as much as me._

She nods her head and though she doesn't make a sound, her mouth forms the shape of a "Yes." And it's all the invitation I need. My whole body trembles as I lean in slowly. It's been so long. And fear rises in me as I think that I might not be good at this. But it's past the point of stopping now and I need to know…_have to know_ what kissing her will feel like.

Just before my lips brush against hers, I take a shallow breath and brace myself. It's pointless, I realize, because the moment we touch, a thousand little explosions go off inside my mind and body. She's perfect. Her lips are perfect. I silently curse not knowing her name because I know as surely as I'm sitting here and this is _actually_ happening, I would moan her name into her mouth. But I can't, so I groan softly.

Like an idiot.

She pulls back quickly, her eyes wide as saucers as she looks at me. And I know that I have pushed her too far. But there's something about the way she's looking at me. It feels like recognition…but how could that be? She doesn't know me. She's never seen me before.

I'm about to apologize for being so forward with her, but before I can say the words, she launches herself at me and covers my mouth again. This time, with much more force than before. And fuck my life…this kiss is amazing.

Hot and soft and open.

Her mouth moves against mine and there is nothing awkward…nothing forced. Her hands are in my hair and that's where I want them to be. Her lips are parted against mine and this time – this time – it's my tongue that slips out. It's my tongue that seeks entrance.

Her mouth is warm and wet as I explore it. And though I'm nervous about kissing her properly because I want her to like it, I get the feeling that this is as good for her as it is for me. And her tongue is so sweet as it strokes mine. Sweet like the cherries from her drink. I want to suck it…so I do. This makes her moan into my mouth, which causes me to suck harder…kiss deeper…hold her tighter. I could kiss this woman – _this perfect fucking woman_ – forever.

And it's with that realization that reality steps in and kicks me in the balls.

My phone goes off in my pocket. I curse myself for not turning it to silent, but I do my best to try and ignore it.

"I'm sorry," I whisper into her mouth. "Please…don't stop."

"I wasn't planning on it," she mumbles into my mouth.

I kiss her again, my hand sliding up her thigh and…do I dare?

Fuck yes, I do.

She gasps as my hand grabs the swell of her bottom. I suck in her breath, palming her flesh in my hand. Once again, she stuns me. She's not a woman caught up in plastic and perfection . She's all real and soft flesh that I can't stop squeezing. Jesus, I'm fucking groping her…in a public place. Shame covers me, but for as much as I am ashamed, I also wonder what her breasts would feel like in my hands. Would they be perfect and soft and lovely? Like her? Like her ass?

Fuck, Cullen.

You need to control yourself.

My phone goes off again and I feel my cock deflate. I'm not sure if it's from the intrusion or the fact that I am embarrassed of how I'm treating her. I pull back, looking at her lovely face – her swollen, pink lips and her glassy, unfocused eyes.

"I'm sorry," I whisper again.

I reach in my pocket to turn my phone off, when I see on the screen that I have a text from Victoria.

**My flight landed. I'm in baggage claim. Where are you?**

_Fuck._

"What?" she says.

Shit. Did I say that out loud?

"I'm so sorry," I say to her, looking in her eyes.

What happened between us comes crashing down on me. I feel like a colossal ass.

"In the past twenty minutes, you have apologized three times and given me the…" her voice trails off and I need to know what she was going to say. "What's going on?"

"I…ummm…I'm sorry, really I am…truly, you have no idea how sorry I am," I say softly, not even able to look at her. "But I have to go."

I look up in time to see the delicate, beautiful features of her face fall, but before she sees me looking, her face changes to one of calm indifference.

"Of course you do," she says. "It's fine…my flight is about to leave and I…ummm…I'm sure that you have a lot to do here in the Mecca."

She laughs, mostly to herself, and mumbles something about Seattle and hot men. At least, I think that's what I hear. I feel the overwhelming urge to beg her not to leave. To stay here and not go back to wherever she's from. I could take her somewhere private – a place where I could kiss her properly without the threat of other wandering eyes and interrupting text messages.

As if on cue, my phone sounds again.

**Edward, where are you?**

The impossibility of my little fantasy crashes down, and I look at her with a sad smile. I stand up awkwardly to leave. I don't know if I should reach out to touch her, but I'm thinking that's a big, fat no…even if my hand is reaching out in her direction. I look at her again, drinking her in before I turn to leave. But then I stop, turning around one last time.

"I know you don't really know me…but I want you to know that I don't do stuff like this. This isn't really who I am. You have no idea just how much this isn't me," I say ineloquently. "But I also want you know that I meant what I said. There was no need to pretend anything today. Not only was I interested…I thought…I mean I think…I think you are captivating."

I watch as she takes in my words and she brings her fingers up to her lips. I wonder if she can still feel mine against them the same way that I'm still feeling hers.

"What Mecca are you from?" I ask, unaware that the words are even coming from my mouth.

She laughs a little. And the sound warms me and reminds me that this is what I'm missing.

"I'm from the Sunshine State," she says softly.

"Of course you are," I tell her, reaching out one last time to stroke her face. My thumb lingers on her cheek, while my fingers find the soft skin of her neck. I know if I don't walk away now, I'll never be able to. So, I turn around and don't look back as I head out of the bar. It will be easier this way.

"All the good ones are from Florida."

.

.

.

.

.

**End Notes:**

**Thank you for the comments from the last chapter. Reviews are like making out with hot men in bars, so slip us some tongue.**

**Cosmogirl7481: follow me on twitter. My tweets are filled with vamp smut and pictures of naked boys...and Rob, of course.**

**Marvar29: follow me for…yeah, still got nothin'. But maybe if you follow me, I could think of something clever. Or tweet hot guys. Whatevs.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

.

.

.

.

.

He walked out...

Of course he did. But not before he sparked a memory that I haven't revisited since I was a teen.

.

.

.

.

.

Summer of 1997...

_"I'm a Barbie girl...in a Barbie world...It's fantastic..."_

_"No it's not. It freaking sucks," I mutter in Lauren's direction. Like anyone wants to hear her lame CDs full blast on the beach. Just another reason to dislike her - shitty taste in music. Too bad she and I have similar taste in guys. Well, "guy" because there's only one I want. _

_One that I have been checking out all week since he arrived with his family on vacation.. One that is too perfect, too handsome, too mature to be with me. I'm sure he just wants to be friends considering the way he keeps his distance from me, but I haven't let that deter me. He turned my boring vacation with my dad in Forks into the best week ever just by his presence._

_"Bella." A voice calls out. _

_I look up to see the main reason I hate Lauren...he's walking toward me. It's all I can do to not hyperventilate when I see him. I'm too excited from hearing my name come from his lips. I wasn't even sure he knew my name. _

_The flickering light from the bonfire makes his green eyes seem deeper, more devastating. Like he needs the help. _

_"Hi," I mumble, "I wasn't sure you'd be here tonight." _

_"Neither was I. But I wanted to see you."_

_"Really?" I blurt out. I bite my nail in frustration at being so eager to see him. I don't think he's bothered by my reaction because he grins and pulls me up and we walk to a more private spot. I hope Lauren saw us leave. I don't have any idea because I was staring at him the whole time. _

_I can't help but feel that something's changed. We don't really know each other, but tonight there's energy between us. He's only holding my hand and it's already too much. I've never felt this way...books don't__ do this euphoria justice. I could__ write notebooks__ full of lame, but heartfelt poetry about this very moment, but they'd__ which would contain too many phrases comparing his eyes to the sea, though._

_He lays out a towel and we both sit. I look at him and cast my eyes down__ shyly__ when he catches me. _

_"Bella, what are you thinking about?" he asks, brushing the hair away from my face. _

_"How hot you are," I blurt out before I regain my wits. He laughs. I want to record the sound on CD. Right after I die of humiliation. _

_"You think I'm hot?" he teases. I roll my eyes at him._

_"Duh. Have you seen yourself?" _

_He laughs and pulls me close to his chest. Geez, he smells good. It's nice to inhale his guy smell without trying to hide the fact that I'm shamelessly sniffing him. I focus on how he smells - like coconut oil and salt. "Why are you even here with me? I thought you would hook up with that girl Lauren. She's way into you."_

_"Have you seen yourself?" he says into my ear._

_"Shut up," I return with absolutely no venom. He laughs again, and his warm breath makes me shiver. He rubs his hand up and down my arm, and I know he feels the __goose bumps__ he's given me._

_"Besides...don't you know...I want to hook up with someone else." He lays us down on our sides, pressing his body close to mine. We've never been this close before. I feel the sand all over, cold and wet, but I couldn't care less. _

_He nudges my head back so that I'm looking into his eyes...we're nose-to-nose...and he leans in...his eyes asking silent permission. _

_I try to convey with my eyes "hell yes," but I probably look cross-eyed. He doesn't seem to care though, because his lips touch mine __and his tongue darts out – tentatively at first, but gradually more insistent. It's soft and__ hot and wet over my lips. I open mine __because I think I'm supposed to and __because I'm wasting his saliva which I'm sure must be delicious. _

_Oh yeah, it is. _

_._

_._

We kissed there on the beach - my very first kiss. Though it was brief, it will remain the single most intense experience of my life...until today, when I kissed a gorgeous man in an airport bar. What's incredible about that fact isn't that I haven't had better experiences (though that is quite sad), it's that I never saw the boy in La Push again...until today.

In an airport bar. All grown up.

Edward.

.

.

.

.

.

"Ma'am, can you please adjust your seat? We're about to land," the attendant says as I come out of my dream. It's sort of ridiculous that I only dream of guys named Edward that I cannot have. It's like being in a Jane Austen novel, only I think those women hooked up with their Edwards. I don't remember exactly - it's been a while since I've read that stuff. I do remember that Keira Knightley totally got it on with that insanely hot Darcy in the movie. Ooh, I need to watch that with Alice when I get home.

But I digress.

I am a little heartbroken here.

Alice is waiting for me at the terminal. She hugs me tightly as I try to hold it together.

"I have ice cream and chips waiting at home. I know you've flounced drinking in light of recent events, but I also have a bottle of Kahlua. We can make shakes."

"I might need cookie dough."

"Shit. That bad?"

"You have no idea. I only got to part of the story."

Her phone is out in a second. "Jasper, please take out the roll of cookie dough from the freezer...Which one?" She glances at my red eyes and expression and replies, "Um, both."

.

.

.

.

.

I don't share my story until we're at her house and I have a roll of dough in my hands and _Pride and Prejudice_ playing on the television.

"You're shitting me now, right?"

"Like I could make this up."

"And you didn't recognize him right away?"

"Not at first. He didn't look like what I remembered. He looked familiar - but I thought it was because he looked like a movie star or something. But when he kissed me...I knew."

"You remember your first kiss?"

"Yeah, don't you?"

"I made Jasper hypnotize me to forget about it."

"Liar."

She winks and laughs. "How on earth could it be the same Edward from La Push? The first guy you ever kissed? You said you didn't recognize him."

"I'm sure, Alice. And I don't know how it happened again. Maybe I'm cursed to repeat the same thing over and over and never get anywhere? Like the fucking movie _Groundhog Day_."

"You're not cursed. And I love that movie. Bill Murray is brill. Let's watch that next."

"I guess it's not that strange. He does live in Seattle. People do visit La Push on vacation. And I concur about Bill."

"What is it with you and guys named Edward? Imagine if he was the radio guy," she snorts. "Wait, are you sure he's not the radio guy?"

"I saw _that_ Edward. It was definitely not him. Almost as good-looking as La Push Edward, though."

"La Push Edward was better?"

"Clooney and Bradley Cooper would stare at him and be jealous. And he's not mine. I just borrowed him for an hour. The most incredible hour of my life - including all sexual encounters."

"Da-aammn. Since when does Washington have such hot men?"

"It must be to offset all the rain."

"And why are they all named Edward? That's an old man name."

"I know. But neither of them would be mistaken for an old man."

"Maybe it's to offset the hotness."

"Trust me. Either one could be named Poindexter and it wouldn't matter."

"So, what are you going to do?" Alice looks at me in concern. "I mean, have you given up?"

"I'm seriously considering a move to a convent."

"Right, like you have time to convert, Sister Bella." Alice snorts as she licks a chunk of dough off her finger. We pause our conversation to swoon as Darcy declares his love to Elizabeth in the field.

"There's just no point in pursuing either of them, Alice. I tried to see radio Edward. He has a girlfriend, and it seemed that the person I heard on the radio didn't match who I saw. I guess the radio does make you sound different."

"And the other one?"

"Enough sparks for the Fourth of July. But it doesn't matter."

"It does matter." She sees my depressed face and offers, "More cookie dough?"

"Duh."

"Jasper!"

He hurries into the room. His tie is slightly askew.

"Yes, dearest?"

"We need some more cookie dough. Would you be a love and go to the store? I'll make it worth your while," she purrs. I turn away when she rubs his ass. I don't want to see the weird "cat mating ritual" between by bestie and brother.

Jasper almost runs out the door. He's so whipped. Possibly literally. I know he and Alice have some weird fetishes and a closet that's always locked - I try not to pry. I need to banish those thoughts immediately. Going down, the cookie dough was delish, but coming up might be gross. Especially mixed with chips and salsa.

Wow, my diet sucks.

Note to self: after researching life in a nunnery (by watching "The Flying Nun" or _Sister Act_ on DVD), buy a nutrition guide.

.

.

.

.

.

I'm eating lunch at my desk when an incredibly good-looking man walks in – wow, he's way hotter in person. I try to choke down the huge bite of salad I have in my mouth and sweep the rest of my lunch into the trash can next to my desk. I stand up to greet him, but he beats me to it.

"Hi, I'm Riley Biers. You must be Isabella Swan. I'm supposed to meet with you to set up publicity?" I gesture for him to sit down as I continue to try to swallow. He waits for me to sit down first, and I see him briefly peruse my body. I raise an eyebrow, but I'm interrupted by coughing. Damned salad. I never choked on cookie dough. That slides right down.

I need to answer him, but I still can't talk. I'm glad I was eating something healthy and not my usual cheeseburger and fries. At least if he has to give me the Heimlich maneuver I won't spew a wad of meat across the room.

While trying not to choke to death, I check out our new first baseman. He has like negative two percent body fat from what seems to be lurking below his perfectly tailored shirt and jeans. He also has a face like a male model. Well, he actually is. There's a swoon worthy shot of him in tight briefs on a billboard which I see on my ride to work. He's staring at me - it's sort of flattering. It would be more flattering if my eyes weren't watering from the hunk of cucumber lodged in my throat. On second thought, that's probably why he's staring.

"Y-yes, a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to our organization." _Thank god your name isn't Edward. I couldn't take another beautiful Edward. _"I have your schedule right here. Would you like to discuss it now, or shall we set a date when you are more available?"

He leans forward on his superbly muscled forearms and says, "Oh, I'm available, and I think a date would be absolutely necessary. Maybe a few, Miss Swan. It is 'Miss,' right?" He grins with just the perfect amount of teeth flashing. I give him a little smile in return and hope I don't have any spinach caught in my teeth.

"Yes, it is. Please call me Bella," I say. I think he's flirting. I'm not used to this sort of attention. Players on our team don't ask me out, but Riley is new - a free agent from the Seattle Mariners. Oh, the irony.

"I'm sure this is where most guys give you some sort of line about you having a perfect name because you're so beautiful. You are. But I'm not most guys."

Holy shit. He is flirting with me. Ok, be professional, Bella. Bring this discussion back to baseball.

"Obviously. Most guys don't have five Gold Gloves and a lifetime average of .325 and also find time to do so much charity work."

"Most women don't know anything about me except my salary." His smile makes his eyes crinkle a bit, and I nearly forget about the Washington Edwards.

"I'm not most women."

"I noticed that immediately."

"So, Mr. Biers-"

"Riley."

"Riley, when would you like to schedule that appointment?"

"How about dinner tonight? And don't worry about mixing business with pleasure. I promise no business," he teases.

I can't help but giggle a little. He's so confident and sexy. And my ego is eating this up. Let's be real – it, like certain neglected parts of my body, could use some stroking.

"How about a completely business lunch? That's all I can do right now," I answer.

"Ok, Miss Bella. I'll take lunch...for now. But I noticed you didn't tell me 'no.'"

Hmm, I didn't, did I?

.

.

.

"That guy from the underwear ad asked you out?"

"Yes."

"After you nearly hacked up a lung?"

"Yes."

"And he's sent you flowers and notes for the last few days after your business lunch?"

"Yup."

"Jeebus crisp, Bella. I have that pic on my iPad. He's my 'go to' when Jasper is out of town and I need some 'alone time.'"

"Gah, Alice. Remind me to never touch that again."

"So why the hell aren't you going?"

"I shouldn't date a player."

"Shouldn't or wouldn't?"

"Both. It's just too soon. My heart is still recovering from the whole 'I made out with my first crush again after stalking some dude I heard on the radio' thing. I need more than a few weeks and a food binge. Maybe I should let Jasper hypnotize me so I can forget about this whole month."

"Dude, you need to get on that, and I mean literally. It's less than a month before Valentine's Day, and you need your own date. I'm not doing some Greek tragedy type three-way. Even I'm not that kinky."

I might have to go out with him just to erase that conversation from my brain.

.

.

.

Later that night I'm in bed listening to Dr. Jane.

I know; it's pathetic.

I hear a snippet of Edward's voice on a "best of" clip and it makes me cry. I think about this wonderful man and his son and how we really aren't meant to be. Then I think about the Edward from La Push and come to the same conclusion – Bella Swan can't live in fantasy land any longer, chasing after men who are unavailable.

Especially when there are real men right here in Florida who want to be with me.

I pick up the phone and dial.

"Hi, it's Bella… Really, I'm glad to hear that…Listen, I was rethinking that whole dinner thing…yeah, I'd love to go."

.

.

.

.

.

**End Notes:**

Reviews are better than cookie dough and Edward's saliva.

Thanks to TwilightFicZone for the rec of MFEO. You can read it on their blog.

Follow us on Twitter: cosmogirl7481 for discussion of BDB and giant cocks and marvar29 for the usual pics of Rob and random nonsense.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:**

Marvar: I told Cosmo I didn't want to hear any more about vampires with giant peens and strange names.

Cosmo: Awesome. My plot to never discuss Jasper again worked! That's a win situation.

Marvar: Jasper has a giant peen? _That's_ awesome.

Cosmo: Speaking of giant peens, Drunk Rob at the VMA's saying fuck was quite possibly the best thing ever. Well, maybe tied with Rob's bare back and perfect arms breaking the headboard.

Marvar: Gah. I was almost back to normal, and you had to remind me. ::runs to look for Rob back porn::

Cosmo: While you do that, I'm booking a flight. You are the only person in my life that won't flounce me for moaning like a leaky whore through the entire movie. True?

Marvar: You can moan, but don't leak. I'm not putting a finger in you to plug the hole.

.

.

.

.

.

My lips are still tingling as I make my way to baggage claim. Hell, my fingers are still tingling from where I touched her face before I left.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I mutter to myself as I abruptly stop in the middle of the terminal.

I pause, wondering if I should turn around and go back. Wanting to. But I don't. I can't. She's probably already gone anyway. And I mean, really…what am I going to do? How would I even find her? Ask random people if they've seen a beautiful brunette? A woman who smells like sunshine and tastes like cherries? Yeah…that wouldn't be crazy at all.

Fuck.

Fuck my life.

How could I walk away?

I try to remember all the reasons that were so prevalent in my mind when I made the decision. Nothing comes to me. Nothing at all. All I can think about is the way she felt against me. The way she opened her mouth and let me in. The way she sounded all soft and sweet and feminine as she moaned against my neck.

She fucking moaned.

And it wasn't like she was trying to be sexy. She just was. She gasped and moaned and let me kiss her because she wanted me the same way I wanted her. And that made her even hotter. That made her so much better. Everything about her was sexy and real…and fucking perfect.

I am so fucking stupid.

Seriously.

Stupid.

My name is Edward Cullen and I'm a stupid asshole.

My phone pings again and I know it's Victoria. And I realize (not for the first time today) that I'm not only stupid, but I'm an asshole. I made out with a woman in a bar while I was involved with another woman who was waiting on me to come and pick her up. Great. Now I'm the kind of man that mothers warn their daughters about. The kind of man that I'm trying to teach Jacob not to be.

I should be ashamed of myself.

And I am.

When I reach baggage claim, the first thing I see is Victoria's red hair. And even though she's traveled all day, there's not a single strand out of place. She looks slightly irritated, but as soon as she sees me, she smiles and waves me over. I am wondering if she'll be able to tell what I've been up to for the last hour, when it hits me - I don't care. And not because I want to hurt her feelings. I mean, I may be a stupid asshole, but I'm not a douchebag.

_Is there a difference?_

_Probably not._

Awesome. I'm talking to myself. And responding. I guess we can add crazy to my growing list of reasons that women should stay away from me.

Anyway, the point is I know now that as perfect as she should be for me…she just isn't the right woman for me at all. I mean… the only thing working in her favor is geography. And that's just not a good enough reason.

Abruptly, I think about Isabella. I think about the kind of woman she must be. The kind of strength and honesty it must have taken for her to send me that letter. The same letter that stirred more feelings in me than anything Victoria ever did in person. I'm not being honest. Not with her. Hell, not even with myself.

"There you are," she purrs, her voice husky and dripping with sex. But still, it does nothing for me. It seems contrived…forced. And really, when it comes right down to it, not sexy at all. At least, not to me. "I was beginning to worry."

I offer her an apologetic smile. I mean, she's obviously not the right woman for me, but she's done nothing wrong. Unlike me. Images of the woman from the bar flood my mind again. And as I try to push them back, I know that there is no way I can view what happened with her as wrong. Even if it was fleeting…everything about it was right.

"Sorry," I say. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting."

"It's okay," she says. "You're here now." She reaches up and drags a perfectly manicured nail along the sleeve of my shirt. "Did you miss me?"

_No. _"Did you have a nice time?"

I step back and move toward her bags, needing to put some distance between us. Jesus. She has three bags. She was only gone for four days!

"I got some rest on the plane," she says. "I wanted to have as much energy as possible for tonight."

Emmett's voice rings in my ears, making my already-pounding head spin.

_The third date is when you seal the deal._

_Seal the deal._

_Seal the deal._

"Ummm…yeah…about that…" I say, realizing I'm not even making eye contact with her. I also notice that my hands are covered with sweat and not because I'm excited. It's because I'm nervous as fuck at the thought of anything like that happening. With her. "Listen, Victoria…we umm…yeah. We need to talk."

.

.

.

.

.

I walk through the door of my house, only to find Emmett and Rosalie making out like teenagers. I clear my throat, knowing full-well they don't care. They've never had a problem with public displays of affection. Although, who am I to judge anyone on that? Especially now. I don't care how dark it was. A corner table in an airport bar is way more public than my living room.

Not even bothering to straighten up, Emmett says, "You're back early. Does this mean you didn't…?" he pauses and then shakes his head with a laugh. "Don't worry Edward. You'll probably last longer the next time."

"Hush," Rosalie says before she flicks him in the ear. I try not to smile as he winces.

"Nothing happened. And don't you worry about how long I last. First of all, it's weird that you're even thinking about it. Secondly, I can last long enough…thank you very much." I add, _"With my own hand,"_ silently. Although, the knowing look Em is giving me makes me blush. And maybe, a little ragey. "Where's Jacob?"

"In his bedroom with Leah," they both say in unison. "She's a bossy little thing," Emmett adds.

I chuckle and head toward the kitchen.

"I know," I tell him.

When I get the door of his bedroom, I look at the two of them. They're sitting on the floor, watching TV. ESPN. _Hmmm….weird_. I'm surprised Leah isn't making him watch something else. Although, I'm not really sure what girls watch.

"I just don't get it," Leah says. "Baseball is _boooring_. It's just a bunch of guys standing around on a field. They barely even run. It's like watching my dad mow the lawn."

"Oh yeah?" Jacob says. "And I guess that Justin Bieber isn't boring."

"Justin Bieber is lame," she says. I wait for it. And there it is – the quintessential eye roll. "I don't even really like him…anymore."

"I saw the picture you have of him in your English folder, Leah," Jacob says, grinning.

I can't help but smile at their interaction.

"Why are you looking in my stuff?" she huffs and blushes. "Do you read my diary, too?"

"You have a diary?" Jacob perks up at the mention of this. "What do you write about?"

"_Noooothing_," she says. "Definitely not you."

For a moment, Jacob looks crestfallen, but he recovers quickly.

"Well," he says bashfully, "if I had a diary, I would write about you."

For a moment, I'm struck by the genuine honesty and adoration on my son's face as he looks at his best friend. He looks down quickly and plays with the loose shoestring on his sneaker. Nervous. Embarrassed. No, I definitely don't need to worry about Jacob ever being a stupid asshole. Not like his father.

I knock softly and push the door all the way open. They both look up at me and Leah says, "Hey, Mr. Cullen."

"What are you guys doing?" I ask, even though I already know.

"Well, Jacob is talking about some baseball player leaving Seattle," she says, rolling her eyes again. I wonder if she gets headaches.

"Riley Biers, Dad," he says. "He got signed by Florida."

"Good," I say. "I never liked him anyway. He was a cocky…" I stop myself mid-sentence, remembering that I'm around children.

"What was that Dad?" Jacob says.

"Ummm…Cockney," I say. "I think he's British."

"Oh, like Mary Poppins?"

"Yes….just like that," I say, backing up, thankful that Jacob has seen every Disney movie forty-seven times. "Okay, kids. Have fun. Leah, let me know when you're ready to go home. I can drive you."

"My mom is already coming after dinner, Mr. Cullen," Leah says. "Mr. McCarty ordered pizza."

As I walk back downstairs, it dawns on me what Jacob just said. Riley Biers got signed by Florida. As in the Marlins. As in the team that Isabella does PR for. _My Isabella._ Wait. What the fuck am I talking about? She's not mine. She only wrote me a letter. A perfect, funny, vulnerable and honest letter that I jacked off to in the middle of the night.

I am an asshole.

I never even responded. And why didn't I? Oh, right. Because I was sure that I needed to try to make something work with a woman who lived in the same city as me. And that logic still stands to reason. But something won't let me forget about her…this woman. Even with the still-vivid memory of the woman from the bar, even though I can still feel her lips moving against mine, I can't get the words from Isabella's letter out of my mind.

She touched something inside me that no one has touched in so long. Not since Emily. She talked about my son. She said she thought he was a wonderful little boy. And after seeing his not-so-private moment with his best friend, I know he actually is a wonderful little boy. She asked us – not just me – to meet her at Disney World. Not because that would be the best and most romantic place for a couple to go, but because she wanted to include Jacob. And that was sincere.

Someone like her would never be charmed by the likes of Riley Biers. She would see right through him, right? And besides, someone like him would never appreciate the kind of woman she seems to be.

Funny.

Smart.

Successful.

Beautiful.

Well, I don't actually _know_ that she's beautiful. I mean, I've only seen part of her breast. But it was perfect. Fuck, I just know she's perfect. Of course she is. And men love women like her. I know. I'm a man.

Fucking Riley Biers.

Maybe he's still dating that supermodel.

.

.

.

.

.

"So you didn't even have sex with her?" Emmett asks, while Rose is paying for the pizza. "The whole point of this was so you could get your dick wet."

"Funny," I tell him as I hand him a beer from the fridge. "I thought the point was to get me back in the dating game. Turns out, I'm a sucky player."

"No, my man…turns out that you're a player that didn't get sucked at all."

I almost slip and tell him about my time with the woman in the bar, but something about that seems too personal to share. Even with my brother-in-law and best friend.

"You kiss my sister with that mouth?" I ask him.

"Sure does," Rosalie says as she walks back in with dinner. She puts the boxes on the counter and leans in to give Emmett a kiss. "Now, leave Edward alone, Emmett. He'll have sex when he's ready to have sex. And that will be when the right woman comes along. And from what Edward said, I don't think that Victoria was the right woman."

"She really wasn't," I say…mostly to myself.

But I can't help wondering if the right woman has already made an appearance.

.

.

.

.

.

"Jake?" I call as I walk into the house. Traffic was heavier than usual today and I don't like when he's home alone for more than a few minutes. "Are you home?"

I roll my eyes as I wonder if he and Leah are upstairs. I know they're only nine, but at some point, I'm going to have to start making them hang out in the living room instead of his bedroom. I knock on his door when I get upstairs, and he tells me it's open. When I walk inside, he's sitting in his chair doing his homework. Without Leah. I sigh, relieved. And then chuckle at my unnecessary concern. They're just kids.

"Did you have a good day? I ask him and he nods his head. He doesn't really say anything, which is unlike him. "Jake? Are you okay, buddy?"

"Yeah," he tells me. "I'm good. Leah will be here in a few minutes. I'm going over to her house to work on our project."

"Okay." I tell him. "If you want, I can call Mrs. Clearwater and tell her I'll bring you over, so she doesn't have to come pick you up."

I make my way out of his room when I hear him call me back.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?" I say, popping my head back in.

"Do you have sex?"

I feel all the color drain from my face. Which is impossible, since I'm pretty sure I'm beet red.

"I…umm…I…" I stammer. "How do you even know what _that_ is?" I ask, dumbfounded.

I have the privilege of watching him roll his eyes this time.

"Dad, come on!" he says, exasperated. "I told you…I'm not a kid."

"I seem to keep forgetting that," I tell him. "Since you are, in fact, my kid."

Did I even know what sex was when I was his age?

I'm pretty sure I didn't even like girls when I was nine.

"They have sex on 'True Blood.'"

"What's 'True Blood'?" I ask. "From the sound of it, I don't think it's something you should be watching."

"It's a show on HBO."

"We don't have HBO."

"I know…I watch it at Leah's."

"I'm pretty sure that Mrs. Clearwater wouldn't let you watch an HBO show, Jacob," I tell him. Although, I'm not really certain at the moment. I vow to research "True Blood" later. Maybe it's not as bad as it sounds.

"No…but her brother Seth does."

"What's it about?" I ask him. I'm pretty sure I sound even and calm.

"Vampires."

"You definitely shouldn't be watching a show about vampires," I say. "Why are you asking me about this?"

"Well, I was just wondering. Because…well…promise you won't get mad?"

I chuckle, but I can't avoid the pit in the center of my stomach.

"The last time you said something like that…I ended up on the radio."

I'm only partly kidding.

"I heard you and Uncle Emmett talking about…sex," he whispers the word. Almost like he knows that it's not something he should be discussing. Even if he thinks he's not a kid. "You know, the other day when we had pizza."

So, this is what dying feels like. Funny, I never thought I would actually die from embarrassment. I take a deep breath as I sit down on the edge of Jake's bed.

"Listen, I don't think that sex is anything you need to worry about right now. And not for a very long time, for that matter," I tell him. "But it's something that happens between two people when they love each other and are grown-up," I add for good measure.

"Do you want to?" he asks.

"I am not in love with anyone right now, Jacob," I tell him honestly. "So, no. I don't want to have sex right now. Not that wanting to have sex is a bad thing. It's not…you know…when the person and the time is right."

Great. I'm rambling…and embarrassed. And my son is going to think his father is an idiot. And his only impression of sex is from a show with the word "blood" in the title.

"That doesn't sound anything like the sex on 'True Blood.'"

"Jesus," I mutter. "Don't watch that show anymore, Jake. And I'm going to call Mrs. Clearwater right now to tell her not to leave you alone with Seth anymore."

.

.

.

.

After I tuck Jake in and watch a particularly disturbing YouTube clip of "True Blood," I try to settle in for the night. And just like every other night this week, I can't get Isabella off my mind. Seriously. I pull out her letter and reread it. I leave the picture under the lotion. Though, if I'm being honest, I had both of them out last night.

It's amazing how having a sex talk with your child can curb all lustful appetites and activities.

There's something about this woman. Something I just can't let go of. And suddenly, I'm ashamed that her attempt to reach out to me has gone unreciprocated. I don't know what kind of courage it must have taken for her to do something like this, but as I sit here, I grow more and more resolved to do something about it. Something more than just Googling her once and thinking about her constantly.

I should reply to her letter.

Yes.

I am going to reply to her letter.

I grab my briefcase and take out a legal pad and pen. I crawl back in bed and I begin to write…to Isabella.

_Dear Isabella,_

_There seems to be a million ways that I could start this letter. Well, maybe not a million…but several. But here's the thing. All of them seem clichéd. So, I'm just going to go with the truth. And the truth is - I can't stop thinking about you. Ever since I read the letter you sent me, you're just always there in the back of my mind._

_No, that's not really true. And I already said I was going to tell you the truth. You're not in the back of my mind. You're in the front. Right in the front with a spotlight shining down and I can't look away. I don't know what that means exactly, but I hope that you can understand what I'm trying to say. I mean, you said you felt the same way after hearing me on the radio._

_I can't lie and say that I wasn't concerned with the whole distance thing. Because…well, I was. I didn't see any way that a potential relationship with you could work. And don't think I'm being presumptuous here. I'm not. You could have decided by now that you don't want to meet me anymore. But I hope that's not true._

_I just can't help but thinking that maybe there is something here. I don't know what it is. I only know that you're like a beat in my heart I can't ignore. And well, everything you said makes me feel like I don't want to ignore it. Not anymore._

_I feel like you already know everything important about me. You know I'm a father. Jacob is the most important thing in my life. He's a great kid and I'm so proud of him. And it meant a lot to me that you told me you thought he sounded wonderful. Because...he really is. You know I was married until my wife passed away. And you know how hard it was for me to deal with that._

_You missed all the trivial stuff. You know, the stuff you get to know when you first meet someone. Like, I'm a lawyer and my favorite color is blue. And my favorite movie is Star Wars. I don't know that I have a favorite song, but I always sing in my car when "1979" by Smashing Pumpkins comes on the radio. I know. That dates me. Anyway, I want to get to know these things about you. I would like to know what makes you laugh and what you like to do for a quiet night in. Hell, I'd like to know if you even like quiet nights in. _

_The picture you sent me… Well, if you could see me now, you would see me blushing. I'm not saying that to embarrass you. I just wanted you to know that…well, it did something to me. Something that I liked. Something that I needed. I would send you the equivalent, but I think that an abstract shot of my "stuff" would just be wrong. Not that yours was wrong. Yours was…God, it was perfect. And in case you were wondering, I'm still blushing. So, I'm sending you a picture. Of me and Jacob. It was taken at the Space Needle earlier this year. I know it's not creative, but I would like you to know who to look for in front of Cinderella's castle. I'm the old one with crazy hair. Jake is the handsome one with the big smile. _

_So, yeah. We'll be there at noon if you still want to come. I loved that Disney was where you suggested. You don't know just how much I love that you chose it for Jacob. Because he comes with me. Just like my 87 cowlicks and love of Billy Corgan. Anyway…we'll be there. Waiting to meet you. I hope you still want to meet us. But if you don't, I understand. I'm not telling Jake about any of this just in case you've changed your mind._

_I really hope you haven't, Isabella._

_Sincerely,_

_Thinking of you constantly,_

_Edward_

.

.

.

.

.

**End Notes: **

**Reading your reviews is like hearing Rob saying dirty things on television. **

**Follow us on twitter: cosmogirl7481 and marvar29. We say stuff sometimes. Our verbal filter is nearly as bad as Rob's. **


	10. Chapter 10

.

.

.

.

"So you've gone out twice? And you're still not hitting that?" Alice asks while we eat lunch.

"It's too soon. You know, because of...of Mike."

"Right. Mike." She looks at me skeptically. "Like you are missing that action. And I'd so be hitting that Riley. Hard. Rock hard, and long...like his co-"

"Alice," I interrupt. "It's only been a little over a month since Mike. And I know you'd hit that...with a flogger or whatever."

"You know me too well," she sighs. "And FYI, Jasper loves it. So what if it's been like a month, it's only been three weeks since you flew out there to hook up with your teenage summer fling, you hussy."

"I flew out there to see Edward...and hooked up with the other Edward." I laugh at how ridiculous that sounds. Alice joins me. It must be the margaritas. Or my crazy life.

"Slut. With your cross-country affairs and underwear models."

"Jealous. Riley asked me to this charity ball on Valentine's Day. Maybe you can help me find a dress."

"Like I give a fuck about clothes." She snorts and motions to her outfit, which consists of a velour track suit and flip flops - to her credit the suit is pink and bedazzled. "You need to get _out_ of the clothes and jump on that."

"And you call me a slut. If you're nice, I can get him to sign a poster for you."

"Can you get video of him walking around in his jock? That'd be hot. I bet he has to wear an extra large one to fit all his junk. Have you felt it?" She leans forward like I'm going to spill a secret…or maybe to eat more chips and salsa.

"We only hugged...and he kissed me goodnight. I don't usually grab cock while saying goodnight," I retort.

"Prude. Well, you kissed at least. You didn't tell me about that. Was it better than Airport Edward?"

"Nothing is better than that," I say with a dreamy sigh. I take a bite of my lunch and regain my composure so I don't sound like a fangirl. "Riley was a gentleman. It was a very chaste kiss."

Alice makes a face. "Chaste kisses suck. And not in a good way."

"It was nice," I insist. It's not a good sign that I can't come up with a better way to describe a kiss with a man I'm dating. I had more sparks with Mike, and that was like kissing a friend. How pathetic.

"Nice doesn't curl your toes, Bella. Now Jasper, that man knows where to put his tongue-"

"_Anyways_, unfortunately, the man that curls my toes is like two-thousand miles away in Seattle. And that will never happen again." I sigh and push my plate away. "Crappy salad. I should have gotten something else. With meat. And cheese."

"Which guy do you mean? And by the way, this double meat burrito is fuckawesome."

"Edward...I mean both Edwards. Fuck, this is confusing. I have these feelings for radio Edward, but this strange pull to airport Edward."

"Talk about double meat. Maybe you can have both of them. We can research where that's still legal. Maybe Vegas." She laughs. "But I notice that you aren't talking about Riley. You know, the guy you are actually dating?"

"Oh yeah."

"Um, yeah. The famous major league player slash heartthrob." Alice is no longer teasing. I can see the worry in her face as she scoops a chip into the guacamole.

I pause, trying to think of the reason why I haven't jumped on Riley. He's gorgeous, eligible, charming, and judging by the attention he's giving me, seriously interested. There's only one thing missing. And unfortunately, it's the most important thing of all.

"There's just no...magic."

"And the others...they have it." It's a statement, not a question that comes from Alice's mouth.

"Like Harry fucking Potter."

.

.

.

.

.

"Where's the butter?" Alice asks with her head in the fridge.

"On the door. Do you think I should wear my hair up or down?" I ask my best friend. It's probably useless, but I extend the courtesy. She did agree to help me get ready. I'll just pretend she offered in spite of the drinks and snacks I promised, and the fact that Jasper is out of town.

"Let me see the dress...You got sausage? Wait, maybe later you'll get some." She snorts as she turns to look at me.

"Didn't you already have breakfast?" I ask, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah. But this is brunch. Go put on the dress, and I'll pretend to care what you're wearing tonight. If you're lucky, I'll share some sex tips. You probably need some since you're all 'like a virgin' again."

"Yes, me and Madonna. But unlike her, I won't be doing any baseball players tonight."

Alice closes the fridge and looks at me seriously. "Bella. What's holding you back? This is the third date. You know you're supposed to give it up tonight. You never heard anything from either Edward, not that you helped matters by giving the airport dude your name or anything. It's time to move on."

"I-uh," I struggle for words to describe how I'm feeling. I'm not exactly in a love triangle. Only one side is actually showing interest. "We'll see what happens...I don't know why I can't let this go. I'm trying, Al."

"Ok, Bells," Alice says softly. She knows not to push. "Go put on the dress. I'll be waiting. This fucking sausage is taking forever to cook."

After a few minutes, I walk out and Alice smiles. "I really love this dress. I've never worn anything like it."

"I do declare, that dress is serious business, Miss Scarlett. You're covered in more blue tulle than all of the Miss America contestants combined. And your boobs look fierce. Riley's going to want to fuck you or motorboat your boobs or something. "

"Thanks, I think." Though I really don't want him touching my boobs. Maybe I should tuck them in or whatever. "So hair up, or down?"

"Up, I think. With curls. By the way, what's the charity you're supporting? Jasper said we should make a donation. There's a silent auction, right?"

"Yeah," I say, pinning my hair up in front of the mirror in my room, "the auction list is on my desk. I can bid for something you want."

"Crap," I hear her call out. "I just dropped all your mail behind your desk. Sorry."

"It's ok, Alice. I do that all the time."

"Damn, Bella. You have some more mail stuck back here."

"My mail is always sliding back there. One time I lost my visa bill. That sucked."

A moment later she comes rushing into my room.

"Ohmigod, Bella. You have to see this. It was stuck under the leg of your desk. I found it when I moved the desk out to grab the mail I dropped."

She hands me the letter. I gasp when I see the return address.

Seattle, Washington.

It's from Edward Cullen.

"Holy shit. He did write me back." I scan the postmark - more than two weeks ago. I've been dying over here and he actually wrote me? Thinking that he didn't even care that I wrote him. Maybe it's just a "thanks for writing, but I'm taken" rejection. Is he waiting for me to respond? Fu-uckk me. I tear it open before I can freak myself out any more.

_Dear Isabella,_

_There seems to be a million ways that I could start this letter..._

My eyes tear up as I read the most perfect letter. He's sort of rambling, just like I do. I laugh at his cowlicks comment, though I don't remember him having any. And his words...they touch my heart yet again. He's been thinking about me - like I've been thinking about him. I find myself sobbing.

"Alice..." I choke out, "he agreed to meet me at Disneyworld on Valentine's Day!"

"Bella, that's today! What time?" she shouts.

"Gah! Noon! Shit, it's...nine-thirty! I'll never make it...Alice?" I stand there, freaking out. I wave the letter and envelope and something flutters out..._the picture_!

I scramble to grab it out of the air before it falls to the ground, but I'm not coordinated enough. It falls at Alice's feet. She picks it up and glances at it.

"Christ, Bella. He's gorgeous. You weren't exaggerating," she says in wonder. "The kid is cute, too." She hands it to me.

"It's him...Edward..." I gasp. A strangled noise escapes me. The man in the picture is the man in my dreams.

"Of course it is. It says it's from Edward Cullen," Alice says, concern in her eyes. "What's wrong, Bella? You've seen him before at his house playing with his son."

"No, Alice. That wasn't Edward that I saw. It was someone else. This picture...It's my Edward...from the beach...from the airport...from the radio...oh my god. He's the same person." I bend at the knees, trying to catch my breath. All this time...the boy I met, the man I kissed, the voice I heard...

"You are fucking kidding me. The guy you made out with is the same Edward from the radio? This is a sign. You have to go. Now!"

"I'm going to miss them," I wail. "I'm not going to make it."

"You better get moving, then. You're lucky you drive a Porsche." She grabs my keys off the table as we rush to the door. She shoves my purse at me and wishes me luck. "Go get him, Bella. This was meant to be. It's too freaking crazy not to be real."

.

.

.

"Welcome to Walt-" says the smiling woman before I interrupt her.

"One, please." I throw my credit card at her.

"Are you sure you're at the right entrance, miss? The characters enter at the south gate."

"I'm not an employee," I say impatiently.

"Oh," she looks me over with a raised eyebrow, "I guess someone was shopping at the Bibbity Bobbity Boutique in the 'big girls' section, huh?"

"Can you hurry, please?" I roll my eyes. I don't have time to be polite. She hands me my card and ticket and I rush through the gates. I ignore the strange looks...I realized two hours ago I was wearing a poufy ball gown while driving ninety miles per hour on the Ronald Reagan Turnpike to meet my first love. Yeah, I'm not exactly the picture of sanity right now.

I look up, searching for the top of the castle. I'm late...and I can't stop for directions. I grab the bottom of my dress and run towards the pointy blue spires I see above the trees. Crowds of people line the street...kids with ears and balloons and dressed like pirates. This is supposed to be fun...but I'm frantically trying to find them and not crush small children with my stilettos.

"Mom, look! It's one of the princesses!" a little girl shouts and points at me as I run by. I wave at her and keep running. I'm nearly there.

Out of breath, I finally reach the side of the castle. I hurry towards the front, searching the faces. There are tourists posing for pictures, someone selling cotton candy and frozen bananas...but no Edward, no Jacob. I run around awkwardly – _my foot hurts_…_where's my shoe?_ - still hoping to see them. But they aren't here.

I've failed.

I collapse on a bench, numb, with my dress billowing around me. I hear the joyful strains of "Someday My Prince Will Come" and I choke out a sob at the painful irony. Not today, Bella. No prince, just...a bare foot – with a big ass blister. Great. Those shoes cost a fortune.

"Mommy, why is the princess crying?" a little girl asks. I turn to look at her anguished face. Her mother gives me a dirty look and mutters something about reporting me for ruining her visit.

_Just try it, lady. I drove three hours in a ball gown for nothing._

My hair has fallen out of my up-do, and my face must be streaked with tears. I'd probably scare him away if he saw me, I think bitterly. I'm a crying mess at the Happiest Place on Earth. I pull my phone out of my purse to call Alice. I need her to talk me out of this mood before the Mickey police arrest me for being such a downer.

"Alice," I cry, "I drove as fast as I could. I looked everywhere. But I'm too late."

A hand gently tugs the phone out of my hand.

"No, you're not."

.

.

.

.

.

End Notes: Reviews are like meaty burritos…or sausage. Stuff our box with some.

Follow us on Twitter:

Marvar29: I'm attempting to fill the void left by Anthony Weiner and plan to tweet cock pics.

(Cosmogirl7481 is already a front-runner due to frequent appearances by pringlecancock and her tumblr porn)


	11. Chapter 11

A/N:

Marvar: So, I'll be in Forks very soon. I might have to tweet ridiculous pics of me at various tourist spots.

Cosmo: You mean like the diner? Will you sit there with your iPad like Stephenie Meyer?

Marvar: Too common. I was thinking about climbing a tree with my aunt on my back.

Cosmo: So, your aunt is "Spidermonkey" in this scenario? Is she aware?

Marvar: I'm sure she'll be thrilled. She's a true fan. She stalked Rob in Vancouver.

(The rest of the AN is missing due to: baseball, work, Words with Friends, Rob pics, BDB, and RL)

.

.

.

.

.

"We're going to Disney World."

I'm sitting at the table with Jacob, and he doesn't even look up from his macaroni and cheese with hot dogs. Yes, I'm rather gourmet when it comes to my culinary abilities. I patiently wait for what I just said to register and briefly wonder if he was even listening.

He looks up to me and then back down to his plate…then back up to me again. His eyes widen and as soon they do, a huge grin breaks out across his face. His smile in this moment is worth everything to me. Even if everything with Isabella doesn't work out, his smile would be enough to keep me happy. And this makes me think about Isabella.

She knew.

She knew how much Jacob loved all things Disney and that was the reason she wanted us to meet there. That reason alone makes her perfect. My heart warms at the thought and I can't help but imagine that she is perfect in other ways, too. God, I just know I'm going to be attracted to her…if she shows up.

She has to show up. Right?

I did wait a long time before I responded. Did I wait too long?

_Fuck._

What if she doesn't?

"Are you serious?" he says, pulling me from my thoughts.

I grin back at him and nod my head. I can feel the shock and excitement radiating from him across the table. Suddenly, his chair kicks back and he's running toward me. His arms come around my neck and I hug him back tightly.

"Disney World?" he asks. "For real?"

"For real," I say.

"This. Is. Awesome."

His voice is animated and I know he's thrilled. He hugs me tighter, his little fingers pressing into my neck and I think to myself, "_Yeah. It really is_."

.

.

.

.

"No," I say. "Absolutely not."

Jacob falls back onto his pillows with a huff as I tuck him in. He smells like soap and toothpaste because he just finished his bath.

"Why not?" he whines. "It would be so much funner if she could come, too."

"First of all…" I tell him as I tuck him in, "_'funner' _is not a word. And secondly, it's not appropriate for us to bring Leah. Florida is really far away and I don't think Mrs. Clearwater would like us to take her daughter with us so far. I wouldn't let you go by yourself with them." I add the "_because they would let you watch scary, violent vampire sex,_" in my head, and shudder as I remember the scene I watched on YouTube.

_Seriously?_

_Who finds that hot?_

I hope the scene I watched is not the same thing he watched. Otherwise, I'm going to be even more traumatized when I explain to him that real sex isn't like that. I was already embarrassed enough at just his mentioning sex to begin with.

"If Mrs. Clearwater says yes, can she come?" he pleads. "Please, please, _pleeeease_… I'll never ask for anything else again."

I chuckle at his begging.

"Ever?" I say. "I don't believe that."

He nods his head solemnly.

"Ever…I promise."

"We'll see," I tell him, knowing there's no way her mother will ever agree. "I'll have to see what Mrs. Clearwater says."

I lean over and kiss him on the head before tousling his still-damp hair.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Jake?"

"This is the best day ever."

"You know," I tell him as I turn off the light, "I think you're right."

.

.

.

.

"Disney World?" Rose's voice is questioning and excited at the same time. "You want us to go to Disney World with you?"

"Well…yeah," I say. I finally broke down and told her and Emmett about everything. Isabella, the letter…my response. I left out the more embarrassing details like the picture of her breast. That is just for my eyes and thoughts alone. "I feel like it will be…easier….you know…if you guys are there."

"You mean to babysit," she laughs, "in case this woman actually shows up."

I hate to think about it that way, but there's no denying the truth. I considered what would happen if we go and she actually comes. I mean, it's not like I could have any alone time with her. Not with Jacob. And I have a feeling that I'm going to want to at least spend some time talking to her. Getting to know her.

"I know it's a lot to ask," I tell her. "But I don't know, Rose…I feel like I need to go. _I have to_. I don't know why…or what the pull is. I mean, I've never met her, but I can't get her off my mind. _It's crazy_. All of it. But I…I just know I _need_ to this."

"It's not a lot to ask, Edward," she snorts. "You're asking me to go to Disney World. You're not asking me to clean your bathrooms."

"So you'll come?" I ask. "Seriously? You think Emmett will be okay with all this?"

"I'll probably have to buy Emmett Mickey Mouse ears," she says. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Thank you," I tell her. "You…you don't know what this means to me."

There's a small silence, but then she speaks.

"Edward, I just…I just want you to make sure that you're…prepared. You know…?"

And before she even finishes, I know what she's talking about. I can hear the concern in her voice. It's seeping through the phone.

"I know," I agree. "This could be nothing. She could not show up. Or she could show up and not be the right person. For Jake…for me."

"Edward, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

I cut her off.

"But Rose…she could be the right one. She could be…she could be…_everything_."

.

.

.

.

A six hour non-stop flight is a long fucking trip. Especially with a restless child. Jake was still a bit pouty in the beginning because, like I expected, Leah wasn't allowed to come with us. But the closer we get to Florida, the more excited he's become. The flight attendants have been more than accommodating. Jake can be very charming. He won them over and they keep bringing him peanuts and Sprite.

Halfway through the flight, Jake, Rose and Emmett are all sleeping. And even though I'm tired, I'm too excited and nervous to sleep. I reach in my carry-on bag and I pull out the letter from Isabella. I read it one more time. Christ, I don't even need to read it anymore. I basically have the thing memorized. I find that I'm paying more attention to the details. Like how feminine her handwriting is. The way she loops her "T's" and the slight right slant of her words.

Even her handwriting is perfect.

And I know that thinking that makes me a pussy, but I can't care.

Well, maybe I care a little bit. I quickly think about her breast to assuage the more masculine part of myself. Yes, her breast. Fuck, now I'm hard. Trying to pull it together, I focus on her words. The part I find myself reading over and over again.

_I just want to try, Edward. Did you ever get a feeling for someone, like you needed to know more about them? That's what this is. So I'm hoping. Yeah. Hoping._

_Yours,_

_Isabella_

I fold the letter quietly and put it back in my bag. I look out the window to my right and I know exactly how she felt when she wrote the letter. I know that I'm hoping, too.

Hoping.

So fucking much.

She has to be there. She just has to come.

.

.

.

.

We arrive at the Magic Kingdom early. Jacob was up and ready to go at six and with the time difference, it felt like three in the morning. I had to remind him that the park wasn't actually open yet and convince him to eat some breakfast. Rose and Emmett mainlined coffee after he went to their room and woke them up. But honestly, Emmett has been just as excited as Jake.

It's amazing – seeing the park through his eyes. They're all wide and glassy and he's so fucking excited about every little thing. I should have brought him here before. I love watching him take everything in.

"The munchkin wants to go on Space Mountain again," Emmett says.

I look down at my watch and it's only ten. Two more hours. Only two more hours until I meet her. I wonder if she's already here. Like, if I've passed her on the street or stood beside her in the line. But then I remember that she knows what I look like. I sent her the picture. Surely if she saw me, she would have said something…

"Hey," Emmett says. "Are you listening? I said that Jake wants to go on Space Mountain again."

"Are you sure Jake wants to go again…or do _you_ want to go again?"

"Can't we both want to go again?" he says, smiling.

I chuckle and nod my head as Rose comes over with two frozen bananas covered in chocolate. She hands one to each of them before taking Jake's hand and leading him over to a man drawing caricatures.

"You need to calm down, my man," Emmett says with a mouthful of banana. "You're too high strung right now."

I know he's right, but I can't help it. I watch him take another bite and laugh when I deflect by saying, "Man, you're really working that banana."

"You need to watch your mouth," he says. "This is a family establishment. The happiest fucking place on earth. There is no place for you, your tight ass…or your dirty fucking mind."

With that, he licks the rest of the frozen treat suggestively.

"Dude, you are so wrong."

"You're both idiots," Rose snaps as she comes back over to us.

I look around for Jake and she motions to him. The man is drawing his picture. His eyes find mine and he waves at me.

"She's going to show, Edward," Rose says softly.

"How do you know?" I ask. "What if she doesn't?"

"If she doesn't, she's not the right one," she says, squeezing my arm gently. "But I think she will. I don't know why…I just do. But you have to relax and just enjoy this time with Jake. Whatever happens at noon will happen."

"You're right. I know you're right."

I spend the next two hours trying to enjoy the park as much as possible with Jake, but Isabella is always there in the back of my mind. Each moment that passes, I grow more and more excited. And more and more nervous. I'm trying not to place so much pressure on this meeting, but I can't help the tingling in the pit of my stomach that tells me this – this moment – could change my life.

Fuck.

I'm going to scare her.

Keep it cool, Cullen. You're acting like you're going to propose and ask her to carry your children today. God, Rosalie is right. I am an idiot.

"There's a show at Cinderella's Castle at noon," Rose says. "There are going to be a ton of people around."

"Fuck, there's a ton of people everywhere here," Emmett says before biting one of the ears off the Mickey Mouse ice cream he's eating.

"Watch your language, Emmett," Rose scolds. "Jake could hear you."

"The munchkin has heard worse than that," Emmett says. "Did you know he watches 'True Blood'?"

"Once," I say sharply. "He watched it once. And it wasn't with me," I add because Rosalie is glaring at me.

"Where are you going to wait?" she asks, shaking her head and changing the subject.

"In front of the castle," I tell her. "That's where she said she'd be. She knows what I look like."

"Okay," she says. "Do you want us to wait off to the side somewhere?"

"Yeah," Emmett says. "Because if we're with you, one of two things is going to happen: she's going to think you're lame for having chaperones, or she's going to see me and realize how much better she can do."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Rosalie snaps.

"Baby," he coos. "Calm down. You just said _not_ to say the F-word in front of the kid. And you know that I only want you. You gotta admit, though…I am a better male specimen than your brother."

"A. Don't say 'specimen' and 'brother' in the same sentence…ever," Rosalie says as Emmett slides up to her and kisses her on the cheek. "And B. You're probably right about the chaperones."

"Okay," I agree. "Do you think Jake should be with me or you guys?"

"Jake can stay with us," Rose says. "I think you might want to talk to her by yourself before he meets her. It will probably be better for him that way…and her to be honest."

My heart is pounding in my chest. This is really about to happen. I look down at my watch and it's ten minutes until twelve. I walk over to Jacob and say, "Hey, buddy. We're gonna go to Cinderella's Castle. They're doing a show there."

"Okay," he nods his head. "But then can we ride Splash Mountain? And you still haven't taken me on It's A Small World. Oh, and I want to go on Peter Pan!"

His eyes are so excited and he's talking really fast. And come to think of it, he sounds a whole lot like I feel.

"Yeah, Jake," I tell him. "We can do all those things."

I'm just hoping that someone else will be doing them with us.

At twelve, I feel like I might vomit. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm going to. By five after, my pounding heart is so loud in my ears, it's drowning out the sound of all the singing from the show.

She's still not here.

I try looking around, but I don't know what she looks like. And it's not like the one thing I would recognize would be visible. Still, I can't help looking…searching. The crowd feels overwhelming and my anxiety is rising with every passing second.

I refuse to believe she wouldn't come. The woman who wrote me the letter would be here. She would have come.

She wanted to meet me.

She wanted to _know_ me.

She wanted to know my son.

At fifteen after, my heart has sunk into my stomach. And I look off to the side and see Rose and Emmett with Jake. Emmett is talking to Jake and he is laughing and Rose is looking at me with a soft expression that looks a lot like pity. And right now….right now I just can't handle it.

How can one person – a person I don't even know – affect me so much? How could I allow myself to hope that this could actually _be_ something? I'm not sure I know the answer, but I know that I did. I wanted to meet and I wanted to know the woman with the rambling words that were so honest and open and vulnerable and funny.

Fuck.

She isn't coming.

She isn't fucking coming and I'm going to have to walk across to my son and spend the rest of the day pretending that my heart isn't a little broken because she didn't show.

Isabella didn't come.

I take a deep breath and I steel my nerves. I look to Jake, avoiding Rosalie's eyes because I still can't handle it. And my son smiles at me. His grin is huge and when he smiles like that, he looks like me. That's when I know everything will be okay.

He is the real reason I'm here.

Suddenly, his eyes shoot up and out into the crowd. I follow his lead and that's when I see it. A woman is running down Main Street in Disney world. I can't really see her face. I can only see this massive sky-blue ball gown and long brown hair streaming behind her as she runs. Even from a distance, I can tell how beautiful she is.

Truly.

She's beautiful.

She stumbles over something, but it doesn't stop her and as she continues to run, her face becomes clearer to me. And then she stops. In the middle of the crowd…she just stops. And that's when it happens. I suck in a deep breath as I realize who she is.

_Oh. My. God_.

It's her…the woman from the bar.

The woman I kissed and held.

The woman I tasted and touched.

Sunshine.

She smelled like sunshine and tasted like cherries.

And I walked away from her.

My body moves closer to her...because I have to. There is this pull, the connection and need I don't understand. But I stop dead in my tracks as I realize that she's crying. Tears are running down her flushed perfect cheeks.

Why?

Why is she crying?

The urge to go to her and comfort her fills me. And once again, I don't know where it's coming from. She's looking around frantically…almost like she's looking for someone.

Just like me.

Realization strikes me and it like lightning…it's like magic.

Fucking magic.

The woman in the bar…

Isabella…

The woman in the bar…

Isabella…

And then I hear the memory of her voice.

"_I'm from the sunshine state."_

They're the same person.

I'm speechless – probably because I can't breathe. And I'm stunned into immobility. I want to run to her, but I can't. I'm stuck there watching…shocked and amazed that it's her.

She walks over and sits on a bench and my eyes never leave her. I see her pull out her phone and begin to make a call.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I question myself out loud.

And then I'm moving. Music is playing, voices are singing. People are passing me. I see them rush by in the blurry haze of my periphery. But my eyes are only on her. _I can only see her._

God, she's fucking gorgeous.

She's…she's fucking perfect.

"She's…mine," I think possessively, not stopping to think what that means.

Only knowing that it's true.

"Alice," I hear her sweet, soft voice cry into the phone as I stand to the side. "I drove as fast as I could. I looked everywhere. But I'm too late."

It's her.

I'm trembling because it's her.

It has been her all along.

I reach my shaking hand out and take her phone from her hand.

"No," I tell her, willing her to look up at me, "you're not."

Her wide, wet eyes look up at me and she whispers, "Hi."

And I want to pull her into my arms. I want to hold her and kiss her again and tell her that this – _all of this_ – has made me believe in magic. But instead, I whisper back, "Hi…you live in Florida."

"I do," she says simply and without even thinking, I reach out and wipe her tears away with my thumb. "I…I got your letter."

"I got yours, too," I say, and this only makes her cry more. "I…I loved it."

"I know you. Are you Cinderella?" I hear Jake ask. I look down and my son is standing in front of her. "I think you lost your shoe."

He's holding her shoe in his hand, his fingers wrapped around the very high heel.

"I'm not Cinderella," she says, smiling down at him. "I'm Bella."

_Bella._

"Beautiful," I whisper.

"Hey!" he exclaims. "That kinda rhymes."

"I guess it does," she says, laughing.

"Bella, this is my son, Jacob," I say, motioning to him. I'm slightly jealous that he seems so at ease with her, while I'm trying to remember to breathe. "Jacob, this is my friend…_Bella_."

She looks back up at me, and my heart stops. It freezes in my chest, and I wait to hear what she's going to say next.

"I thought I missed you," she said. "I thought I was too late and that I wouldn't find you."

"You're just in time," I tell her.

"Would you like your shoe back?" Jacob asks.

"Thank you," Bella says. "Thank you for finding it."

She reaches out to take her shoe and Jacob pulls it back from her reach.

"The prince is supposed to put it on," he says seriously. "It's how he knows who the right girl is."

"I'm pretty sure it fits," she says, pushing out her foot.

Jacob gets down and slides her shoe on.

"You're right," he says. "It does."

"It's perfect," I say quietly…honestly…and not just about the shoe. "It's a perfect fit."

You know that awkward moment where you want to pull the woman you haven't been able to stop thinking about into your arms and your nine year old son is there watching the both of you with a confused expression? Oh, and she's also the same woman that you made out with in a bar at the airport where she made you realize that you still had the desire to be with another woman? Oh, and she reminded you that you still had an appendage that blood actually flowed to, giving you a massive erection?

Yeah.

That's me.

This is that moment.

I can't tear my eyes from hers and I know I'm standing there like a dumbstruck idiot, but I just can't look away. But she's looking at me, too. The same way. She's looking at me the same way and I can't stop the probably-obnoxious grin that covers my face.

"Do you want to ride Splash Mountain with us?" Jacob asks.

"Ummm…I…ummm…I'm not sure I'm dressed for that…" Isabella – I mean Bella – stammers.

Bella.

Seriously. Her name is perfect. For her, it's perfect.

"What do you mean? You're dressed like a princess," he says, his face showing the fact that he thinks her attire is perfectly normal for the setting. And I suppose in his eyes, it is.

"I guess…I mean…" she looks at me and I feel like I'm going to swallow my tongue. Like it's suddenly too big for my mouth. "Do you...well…would you like that?"

She blushes and I can feel her nerves.

"I would love that," I tell her. "I mean…I would. I would love it if you stayed. With me...with us."

Her responding smile is brilliant…exquisite. Just like her. And I can't help it, like I physically can't stop my hand from reaching out to take hers. It's soft and warm in my hand. Her skin is like silk against mine and I squeeze gently.

"Jake," Rosalie says, coming up behind us. "Why don't you come with me and Uncle Emmett for a minute? Let's let your dad have a few minutes with his friend."

"She's my friend, Aunt Rose," Jacob says. "She came to my house to see me. She said so. I remember her."

Bella looks up at my sister and her husband and her eyes widen.

"It's you," she says and she starts to laugh. "Oh, my god. Everything makes so much sense now."

"Wait a second…" I say. "You came to our house? What? Wait…when?"

"When I was in Seattle," she says. "I went to your house…and Jacob was there…with them." She looks back at Emmett. "I thought…I thought he was you. I thought…I mean…Christ, I thought when I saw the two of them together…with Jacob…"

She's not making any sense. At least, not to me. She looks back to me and she covers her face with her hands.

"I thought he was you…I thought that you'd already moved on. That you were in a relationship."

Emmett bursts out laughing.

"You thought I was Edward?"

"Yes," she nods her head laughing. "I totally did. And I was horrified. That's when I came to the airport and…well…" her voice trails off as her face and chest flush.

The airport?

Oh…the airport.

Fuck me. I know what she's remembering…and my cock stirs at the memory. I beat that shit back down. Christ. I'm with my son…and my sister. At fucking Disney World. I'm pretty sure an erection at Disney is a felony.

"Jake, let's go grab some lunch," Rosalie says. "I'm sure…" she looks at Bella, fishing for a name.

"Isabella," I tell her. "I mean Bella."

"I'm sure Bella would like to change."

"After lunch, can we please ride Splash Mountain?" Jake asks Rose taking her hand.

"Yes," my sister says. "Right after lunch." She looks back at me and tells us that they'll meet us back here in an hour. And I mouth the words 'thank you' as they walk off.

"I think I'm gonna need to buy something to wear," Bella says.

I sit down beside her, needing to look at her. Needing to know that all of this is really happening. That she really is who I think she is and that I'm not dreaming. Her eyes are so soft as she looks at me and I reach up and touch her face.

"It's you," I whisper.

She nods her head and her hand covers mine.

"And it's you."

"Is it okay that I want to kiss you?" I ask. "You know…again?"

"Umm…yeah," she whispers. Her voice is low and husky. It does things to me. Seriously. Things. "But since Jacob is still over there with your sister…I think that…kissing…yeah, I think that needs to wait."

I look across the way and sure enough, Jacob is in line at a restaurant with Rose and Em. He's watching us and I know that she's right. He's never seen me with another woman. And even though I think he really likes Bella, kissing her right now probably wouldn't be the best thing.

Even though it would so totally be the _best_ thing ever.

I take her hand and let her lead me to a shop where she can get something else to wear.

"You…umm…you look beautiful," I tell her. "But why the dress?"

She looks down and bites her bottom lip. She did that in the bar, too. It made me want to suck and lick it better.

"It's a long story," she says.

"We have all day," I tell her, stopping and pulling her a little closer to me. She still smells good. Like sunshine…and delicate perfume. "As long as you want…"

"Wow. How do you do that?" she asks.

"What?"

"Make me want to…I don't know…tell you everything? I mean, I'm pretty filter-less in general. But you…you make me want to tell all my secrets."

I'm leaning in closer…I can feel her breath. Warm against my face.

"You have secrets?" I ask.

"A few…"

Her face is so close to mine…so fucking close. Her pretty pink lips are parted… And I need to feel them again. I have to kiss her again.

It can't wait.

I can't wait.

Grabbing her tightly, I pull her into the closest building, hoping for a private hallway…a bathroom.

Something.

Anything.

The room is quiet…cool compared to the outside heat…and empty. Bella laughs and I look down at her.

"What?" I say. "What's so funny?"

"We're in The Hall of Presidents," she giggles.

"Apparently, we're the only ones."

"Yeah…history is boring."

"Kissing you wouldn't be…"

I say the words before I think about them, but I don't want to take them back. Wouldn't dream of taking them back. We're alone and her heart is pounding like mine. I feel it against my chest.

"Then do it," she says. "Kiss me, Edward."

And surrounded by Abraham Lincoln, Jimmy Carter, and Barack Obama, I pull her as close as her dress will allow and I kiss the princess. _My very own princess_. This time there's no alcohol, no people around and no incoming text messages. There's just me and Bella and the way I fall apart when my tongue touches hers.

We make our own history.

We make our own…magic.

.

.

.

.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm standing outside a small shop at the front of the park, waiting for Bella to come out. I'm not prepared for her when she finally emerges.

She's wearing black board shorts that show off her legs and a white t-shirt. As she gets closer, I read the pink and black writing across her chest.

_**Just a Princess…Looking for her Pirate**_

Slap my ass and call me Johnny Depp.

This is the best day ever.

.

.

.

.

.

End Notes:

Reviews are like your very own pirate prince wearing a shirt that says: Pirates Do It in the Booty. So leave us one.

Follow us on Twitter:

marvar29 for Rob pics and comments about my old lady shoes.

cosmogirl7481 for colorful (and graphic) comments on books featuring extremely large cocks. And dirty word suggestions for all you whores playing Words with Friends.


	12. Chapter 12

AN:

Marvar: Sorry about the delay. I was on vacation (I went to Forks) and then I had hives (don't ask).

Cosmogirl7481: You are a writer: "I went on vacation, and now I have herpes" sounds more exciting.

Marvar: Only if I got an STD from Rob would that statement be acceptable in any way.

Cosmo: Well Rob doesn't have VD. Unless it stands for "Virile Dick."

Disclaimer: This chapter was written while under the influence of meds, half-faux hawks, and Bel Ami.

.

.

.

.

.

The Hall of Presidents is my new favorite ride. Well, it's not a ride...but it was the best Disney experience ever. Luckily no one caught us fooling around in there - I might be banned like Alice. One summer a few years ago, she took the "Alice in Wonderland" ride a little too far. It's sad to take a walk of shame down Main Street. I have pictures.

But I would get banned for Edward.

Because there's always Disneyland.

While shopping, I call Riley to cancel our date. He's disappointed, but he was very polite, thankfully. It's important that we be cordial during our working relationship. It's also important that I not have two dates at the same time.

I finish shopping and arrange for the store to hold my clothing. Carrying a giant garment bag around might take the fun out of the Magic Kingdom. I emerge from the store to see Edward waiting for me. He doesn't say anything for a bit...maybe I should have gotten the "booty" shorts and wench corset. But his slow perusal of my body and breathtaking grin make me feel more like a princess than ten yards of tulle and silk (that's a guess - like I know how to sew).

"Bella, your board shorts are on fire," Edward comments.

I look down – as if it's possible that my shorts are in flames. They don't even have flame designs on them. Like I would wear that. I make a weird face (it just slips out - my strange faces aren't attractive - Alice always pinches me when I make them), and blurt out, "What?"

He looks nervous - maybe I scared him with my contorted grimace - and replies with a sigh, "I was trying to flirt by telling you that you were hot. I heard that line when I was watching television with Jacob. I should know better than to use pick up lines from Nickelodeon shows."

I burst out laughing at his sheepish look. "So you think my um, lower region is so hot, I'm on fire, Edward?"

"Yeah," he laughs too, and I want to record the sound and put in on my iPod. "I do. Is that ok?"

"That's more than ok, Edward," I reply, inwardly swooning. With a grin, he grasps my hand again and we start walking.

"The store agreed to hold your dress?" Edward asks after a moment.

"Yeah. Thankfully. I didn't know what to do with it. A giant ball gown doesn't exactly squeeze into a tiny locker or my purse."

"So why were you wearing it? You promised to share that story."

"I wanted to impress you on our date?" I offer, more of a question than a statement.

He cocks an eyebrow. Even skepticism is an attractive look on him. Alice would never pinch him...yeah right, she'd probably grab his ass.

I sigh and explain, "Ok. This morning I was trying on the dress for a ball I was supposed to go to tonight when I found your letter. Well, Alice found it, and I left immediately. And then I broke like ten different speeding laws just to get here."

"A ball? Well, explains why you were dressed like Cinderella," he mutters. "But...I know...I mean...fuck. I know I waited too long to reply to your letter, but...well, are you seeing someone else? Is there a guy waiting for you at home, Bella?"

"What? No, Edward," I reassure him. "Riley is just a friend. I already called him and told him I'm unavailable. Forever."

I know that I just met him (well, not really - let's not get technical), but I know that there is something between us. There has to be. Otherwise I am in an alternate universe where crazy shit like this happens to boring old me. If that's true, then I will gladly put on the straightjacket that Jasper probably has reserved for me. I try not to think about the straightjackets with his and Alice's names on them that I found in the spare bedroom closet. I don't think they were for mental health purposes. Edward's response drags me from my mental cringing.

"Riley," he snorts, "not Biers, right? I hate that guy. Jacob loves him though."

My face gives me away because Edward grimaces. "Fuck, of course. I mean look at you and he just signed with your team. Fucking Riley Biers."

"Edward, I'm wearing a pirate shirt because I drove three hours in a ball gown just to get to you. You have nothing to worry about," I reassure him. Like Riley Biers could even compare to Edward. Thankfully he doesn't push the subject further because I don't want to start gushing about how awesome he is. It might get embarrassing.

"So you almost didn't make it? I don't know what I would have done if you didn't show. I panicked there for a bit," he says ruefully. He runs his fingers through his hair which only makes him hotter. Does he not realize that he doesn't need any assistance in this area?

"Trust me. I was in full panic mode when I got here late and I didn't see you. You saw me. It wasn't pretty."

"On the contrary...I thought you looked beautiful," he murmurs.

I beam at his compliment. "I didn't want to miss you. I couldn't let you walk away again without trying...you know...whatever this is."

"I can't believe you're the same person from the airport," Edward says as he shakes his head in what seems like amazement. "When I talked to you that day it was almost like I'd known you for years. You were so familiar to me. I know that sounds crazy," he says with a laugh.

"Right. Like I have the right to call anyone crazy after the things I've done." Really, Jasper does have grounds to commit me. I banish that thought and I take a deep breath and tell him what I've been holding in since that day in the bar. "We have met before, Edward. You just don't remember. It was a long time ago. It probably didn't mean much to you..." my voice drops to a whisper, "but for me...it was my first kiss."

I look up at Edward's face. His eyes are blinking and I can almost see him searching his brain.

"Bella," he gasps, "your first kiss...that's just...wow."

"I only mentioned it because I didn't want to keep anything from you. It's not a big deal..." I trail off, my head down.

I feel Edward tugging me closer to him. "It is a huge deal," he says softly as his arms tighten around me, "To me, too. That night at the bonfire...you and me on the towel...in the sand...on the beach in La Push."

I gasp and look up at him. "You remember," I whisper.

"Your hair was longer and your face has changed a bit, but your eyes are the same. And your body..." he chuckles as he rubs my lower back slowly, "let's say you've filled out."

I swat away the hand that's inches from my formerly flat ass. "Hey. I was only fourteen," I tease.

He chokes - it's like ridiculous and flaily. He quickly recovers, which is good because my first aid skills are not up to snuff. Mouth-to-mouth would be pleasant for me, but probably not too effective.

"That young? I feel kinda pervy. I was seventeen." We share a giggle. Well, I giggle. Edward laughs in a very masculine, virile way.

"You probably didn't realize that my dad was chief of police at the time," I add with a wink. "Good thing you kept it PG."

His eyes widen then he gives me a look that makes my tummy flip - in the "oh, hell yes" way - and leans toward me. "So lucky for me that you are past the age of consent now," he murmurs in my ear.

Yeah.

No words.

I don't know if it's his realization or his hot breath in my ear or the subtle scent of his cologne that has turned me into mush - but I fear that Edward Cullen has ruined me for all other men. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm well past that stage.

"Bella, I might have not realized right away that you were the same girl I met on the beach...but you have to know that I have often thought about that night," he whispers against my lips. "Because...well...ummm...you were my first kiss, too."

Oh yeah.

I'm a goner.

.

.

.

.

.

Buzz.

I release Edward's hand and walk into the restroom. I realize I need to freshen my make-up after he spread it around my face with his lips. And tongue. Again. Maybe he licked it all off. Whatever. I'm not complaining, but he's not going to want to walk through a public place with me when I look like the Joker.

Wow. I can actually feel a vibration where Edward touched me. That's amazing. I pull my lipstick out of my purse when I squeeze in front the mirror. Damn. I look like I got Botox after my make-out session with Edward. I decide I look more like post-surgery Meg Ryan than The Joker. Not sure that's a better look for me.

Buzz. Another buzz without Edward near? Ok, he's not that powerful. I realize I haven't checked my phone since I called Riley earlier. My phone has five text messages. Oh. So that was the strange buzzing. Snort. I mean Edward's hot, but he's not conducting electricity.

I discretely (as much as possible in a crowded restroom), call my bestie before she "raises hell with the Feds because of my kidnapping." I don't want to have to visit her in Leavenworth or whatever. The lack of snacks and sex would probably kill her and I don't think I'm capable of smuggling Doritos in my bra.

"Bella!" Alice yells. "What happened? We got cut off. I tried not to call in case you were talking to him, but I had to text."

"Alice," I speak quietly while inside the restroom, "he came."

"You gave him a hand job already? You work fast. Did you do the wrist twist I showed you?"

"Gross, Alice." I don't tell her that giving Edward a hand job would be far from gross. I thought about it once or ten times today even while listening to "It's a Small World" on a loop. That might be illegal - at the very least it's in poor taste.

"Right, Bella. Like you don't want some-"

"Alice," I hiss, "he's here, waiting. I just wanted to tell you that things have worked out."

"Oh Bella, I told you it would work out. I just knew it."

"Yeah, finally something you predicted actually panned out."

"Shut it. I predicted I would marry Jasper."

"Only after you saw the ring and your dad told you that he asked for your hand."

"Whatever. Go get laid in the Hall of Presidents or something. You need to get some."

Damn Alice. How did she know? Mmm, Hall of Presidents. Edward. I start to get warm at the thought of his body against mine. I hope I don't associate presidents with Edward. I don't want to get horny whenever Bush gets mentioned. That would be horrifying. "Um, right. So I'll be staying the night. Maybe longer. We haven't decided."

"Did you call your date to cancel?"

"What?"

"You know that gorgeous guy that wants you...over six feet of muscle...loaded jockstrap? The ball?"

"Oh him," I mutter.

Alice laughs. "Poor Bella with the surplus of hot guys."

"I texted him."

"Bella..."

"I'm kidding. I already called him. It wasn't fun, but he understood."

"I'm sure your DILF will make it better."

"I have to go, Alice. Edward is going to think I have stomach issues because I've been in here too long."

"Eew. You're in the restroom? Make sure he knows you were on the phone and not dropping a load. That's never attractive."

"That's lovely, Alice. I'll be sure to avoid that topic at all costs," I say, horrified.

"Don't forget, Bella. It's your third date. You know what that means. It's time to fu-"

"Geez Alice. Like I wasn't already mortified by the bathroom talk."

"Ok. I'll go. But text me with details. And I wouldn't be offended by some peen pics. Just saying."

"I'm rolling my eyes and hanging up now."

"Bye, sweetie. Have fun. Eat a churro for me. I miss the churros more than Mickey."

I run out of the restroom lest he think that I was in there for an unseemly amount of time, eyes searching for Edward. He's standing under a tree looking absolutely handsome and perfect. To his right, I spy a cougar and her teenage daughter trying to catch his attention - they're so close that they're nearly grabbing him, and he's blissfully unaware. Hah. Tuck in those fake boobs before we see nipple, lady. This is family establishment. And real good example for your kid, skank mom.

I stand up straight (showcasing real boobage - bite me, tramp mom) and walk over to my man. Well, he's kinda my man. He flew to Florida to meet me, right?

Edward grins widely when he sees me. He is holding two frozen bananas. I walk right in front of the cougar and her offspring, cutting off access to Edward. Sorry ladies. This prey is mine.

"I hope you like these. I couldn't stop myself from buying some," he says as he takes a long lick of chocolate. I can't help but gulp at the sight of his pink tongue flicking the banana. Is it longer than average? Am I talking about his tongue or his banana? My mouth hangs open, and Edward thinks that I want a bite or something because he sticks the banana in my mouth. I can't help but look at him as I lick the end. His eyes widen, then narrow as he realizes what I'm doing. Yeah, I'm working that banana.

"Oops." The melting chocolate drips on my fingers and I move my hand to my mouth to lick it off, but Edward grabs it before it gets there and draws it to his lips. He looks into my eyes as he takes my thumb in his mouth and sucks.

"Mmmm...Best chocolate ever." He slowly releases my thumb from his hot, wet mouth and I die. Edward wins this round.

Holy shit. I felt that everywhere. My ass even tingled. Mike never licked me; he said there were too many germs. I had to apply sanitizer to hold his hand. Apparently Edward thinks I'm clean. Or maybe he likes it dirty. _Gah!_

"I-um...damn." He sucked the words right out of me. That's some powerful mouth action. I'm still in a daze. I would agree to sign over my 401k and not even care. I need to get a little bit of control back here. "Edward, how about we go to Pirates of the Caribbean? It's really dark and cool...and I feel like a ride. You up for it?"

"Bella, you have no idea."

.

.

.

"So Bella, you thought I was Edward when you went to the house?" Emmett asks with a huge smile after we clue them in about our whole story over dinner. They were amazed by the details of how we met. "You must have been so disappointed when you saw the real Edward."

Everyone laughs at the table. Except Edward. He gives Emmett the stink eye. "Actually Emmett, I was thrilled since you were so obviously taken by a very beautiful woman," I reply while squeezing Edward's hand. "It meant Edward was single."

"But you were probably wishing he wasn't so scrawny, huh?"

"Oh, Emmett, he's definitely not scrawny," I say with a laugh. I think back to the Matterhorn ride when I was sitting between his legs. Scrawny, hell no. I look at him and he returns my adoring look.

"Stop fishing for compliments, Emmett," Rosalie scolds. "Yes, you are huge and muscular." She rolls her eyes and turns to me. "Bella, tell us about your job. You must get to meet all those hot athletes."

"Yes, I arrange lots of photo shoots and events for the players, and I do work closely with them," I reply.

"Hey, can you get me Riley Biers' autograph, Bella?" Jacob cries out excitedly. "He's my favorite player."

Edward's hand tightens on my knee and mutters "douche bag" under his breath. "Of course I can, Jacob. I'll get him to sign a ball and jersey for you."

"Do you know how much his balls are worth? I want one too," Emmett says. "Maybe you should get one for Edward."

"No thank you. I don't want to touch Riley Biers' balls. No matter what they're worth," Edward retorts. I squeeze his hand, and his pouty expression forms back into a smile.

Jacob is beaming at me, and my heart feels so full. He jumps off his chair and hugs me. "Thank you, Bella. Not just for the jersey, but for making my dad smile. He doesn't do that very often." He whispers, but I think everyone can hear him.

"You are very welcome, Jacob. I'm glad I can make you both smile. I'd do anything for you...and him," I whisper in his ear. I glance at Edward and his eyes are shining. I suck in a breath before I start to cry. Judging by their expressions, everyone at the table seems just as affected as I am.

"Can you get him to sign one of those underwear posters for me, Bella?" Rosalie asks with a smirk.

Emmett groans and the emotional climate suddenly becomes lighter. "Definitely, Rosalie. And thank you so much for the clothes and toiletries. I really didn't know when or how I was going get anything."

"It was nothing. You and Edward need the time together," she says with a loving glance at her brother.

"Yeah, we need lots of time...together," Edwards adds quietly. He rubs his thumb over my knuckle and it's more erotic than any touch I've ever felt.

"So are you staying in the room with us? I'm good at sharing and I don't snore. Uncle Emmett snores like a bear. You don't want to share with him," Jacob says through a mouthful of Mickey-shaped chicken.

"I reserved my own room, Jacob. But thank you for the offer."

"Tough break Eddie," Emmett says with a guffaw.

"Emmett," Rosalie warns.

"So this is your third date, right? You met as teenagers in La Push, the airport was the second, then this is third," Emmett states.

"Yeah," we both answer.

"Well, you know what's supposed to happen on third dates. Just saying," Emmett sings while waggling his eyebrows.

Edward and I both gulp and look at each other.

"Hey Jacob, I think it's time for bed. Why don't you stay with Auntie Rose and me tonight? I promise not to snore." He whispers loudly, "I brought the Xbox. I need a Halo rematch, dude."

"That's a good idea, Jakey. Your dad and Bella are probably very tired and want to go _straight to bed_," Rosalie says, trying to hide her laughter. She and Jacob hug us goodbye and walk upstairs while Emmett takes care of the bill.

I try not to be embarrassed at the completely obvious way they are trying to get us alone. I'm not complaining, though. I think Edward has a wonderful family and they've accepted me in such a short time. It has been a long time for him, so I don't want to pressure him. But damn it, I want him. Badly. Like it hurts.

"Thanks Em, for taking Jacob tonight. Bella and I are pretty worn out," Edward says.

"Yeah, Eddie, I know you're really tired," Emmett laughs, "of not getting any."

"Emmett," Edward warns. "Thanks for dinner and taking care of my kid and especially for _caring so much about my physical well-being_. Now fuck off."

Emmett winks and walks away smugly. Edward glares at him then turns to me.

"Bella, may I walk you to our, I mean your room?" He holds out his arm to me which makes me swoon. "So...that was awkward, huh?" Edward laughs nervously as we head upstairs. "There's nothing like family members discussing your sex life or lack thereof."

"When you meet my best friend Alice you'll understand why that didn't shock me in the slightest. She shares everything in great detail. And the kicker is that she's married to my brother Jasper. I have to remind her of that when she brings out the graphic pictures."

"Wow. So that explains why she wanted shirtless pictures of me."

"What?" I stop and turn to face him.

"Remember, at the end of your letter she gave me an email address so I could send her topless pics? She wanted to see if I was hotter than A Rod."

"Oh my god. I'm going to kill her. You didn't send any right?"

"Of course not, Bella," he says with a chuckle.

"Because that would suck if she got to see you before I did."

"You've seen me shirtless before."

"That didn't count. You, like me, have also filled out. I can only imagine what's going on under all this," I say flirtatiously as I touch his chest lightly.

After my hint that I was open to him (that sounds a little gross) and any moves he'd make, Edward looks nervous and embarrassed and doesn't say anything when we arrive at my door. Damn it. I scared him by acting like a hussy.

"I guess I should go in now. Thank you for everything. Especially for meeting me and trusting me to meet your family," I say, trying to recover my dignity. "See you tomorrow?" I rush to open my door.

"Yeah, um, I - of course. Tomorrow." He still looks confused and upset. I hope I didn't fuck everything up by being too forward.

I give him a peck on the lips instead of the full mouth assault I really want to give him, lest he think I'm a total whore.

"Goodnight, Edward."

"Night, Bella," he says sadly as I hurry into my room. Fu-uuck. How did I ruin everything?

I drop the bag of clothes Rosalie bought for me on the chair and flop on the bed. I suppose touching him all day made me pathetically needy for him. Can women get blue balls too? You know - metaphorically speaking, of course. I decide that a shower is the only thing that will help this...ache.

After my shower (lukewarm - not cold because that's just uncomfortable) I put on the skimpy tank top and underwear Rosalie bought for me. I'll assume this was for sleeping and not an outfit. She must think I enjoy exhibitionism or else she really wants to get her brother laid. Thinking about Edward and getting laid makes me sad and I start to cry. I must have cried myself to sleep because I'm awakened by knocking at my door. I stumble over to answer it, half-asleep, half pathetic mess.

I might be dreaming – but it's Edward. I can't do anything but stare in awe at the gorgeous man at my door. His eyes drink in my body - holy shit, I'm nearly naked - and he looks sort of wild. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out except for a garbled noise. I reach out to touch his hand to reassure him (and make sure I'm not hallucinating) and suddenly his hands are in my hair...his mouth covers mine...and there's kissing and panting and grabbing and groaning. Yeah, I'm pretty sure he's groaning, but I don't care because I'm groaning, too. His breath is hot and sweet and he tastes perfect - like chocolate and sex. And I realize that everything I want is pressed up against me. Long and lean and…so hard.

It's just Edward and me.

And it's fucking magic.

.

.

.

.

End Notes: Reviews are better than licking Edward's chocolate-covered banana. Tune in next time when we promise not to cockblock you.

Follow us on Twitter.

Cosmogirl7481: For oversized vegetables and male appendages, as well as commentary on all things regarding hot vamp sex.

Marvar29: For extremely graphic pics of my leopard-like rash and general nonsense. Maybe even some Rob with good hair.


	13. Chapter 13

.

.

.

.

.

When I said I would be happy to spend the day in Disney World if Bella didn't show up because it would be wonderful just to see Jacob's smile…

Yeah.

That was a lie.

There are no words to describe how wonderful it was to be with her today. There is nothing I can say that won't sound stupid or insignificant. Because being with Bella, watching her interact with my family…my son...and the way that she immediately fit in with them and the way they immediately loved her…

Seriously.

No words.

And now I'm sitting in my empty hotel room wondering where the fuck it all went wrong. Oh, and I have a raging erection because I know that Bella is in her room just down the hall. She's probably sleeping now…naked. Fuck, I wonder if she sleeps naked. She probably does…all warm, soft skin and little breaths that I would feel on my neck if she were snuggled up next to me.

I'm such an idiot.

She should totally be snuggled up next to me because she's exhausted from our lovemaking.

It's not like I didn't want to bring her back to my room and kiss the living shit out of her before I threw her on the bed and really made her mine. I did. It was all I could think about all day. Especially when we were on the Peter Pan ride and her perfect little hand trailed up my thigh in the dark. It slipped under my shorts for the smallest moment before she pulled it away. It's probably a good thing she didn't go any higher. I'm pretty sure I would have come immediately if she got anywhere near my dick.

That could have been embarrassing.

The thing was, after dinner, she got all shy. She was more reserved than she had been all day. It was probably Emmett and all of his suggestive talk. I have half a mind to go over to his room and beat the shit out of him. Who am I kidding? He would just make fun of my boner before beating the shit out of me. Emmett's a big guy. And while I'm an idiot, I'm not completely stupid.

I sit here, forcing myself not to take my erection in my hand and stroke it. It's still as hard as a brick, but I refuse to masturbate when the woman of my dreams and all my thoughts is so close. Why didn't I just take her in my arms when we were at her door? Why didn't I beg her to let me come in and show her how I feel…how she makes me feel? I'm not above begging. Not really. Not now that I know who she is. The woman from the airport…the girl who shared my first kiss.

Fuck.

She's here and I'm not with her.

She's here and not underneath me…or you know…on top of me, riding me and screaming my name. I may be a boring, single dad, but I can at least change positions.

I realize that this train of thought is getting me nowhere, so I strip off my clothes and I take a shower. A cold one. A really cold one. It doesn't really help me much, but it does calm the massive erection that I'm sporting. The thing is, though…as soon as I'm dried off and lying in bed, I can't help but think of her again. And thinking of her only leads to my body responding.

Yeah, my cock is like a flag pole.

And I have to surrender.

I don't know what I'm thinking as I throw on clothes and make my way down to her room. Hell, I don't know if I'm thinking anything at all. All I know is that I can't fuck this up and I need her. I fucking need her. This thing – whatever it is – it's fate. It has to be. There are too many coincidences for it not to be fated.

I don't allow myself to think as I knock on the door. Because I know if I do, I'll chicken out like a pussy. And I can't be a pussy. This is too important. Bella is too important.

It takes a minute or two for her to answer the door. I look down at my watch and see that it's after midnight. She was probably, definitely asleep. Fuck. Now I'm not only an idiot. I'm an asshole, too. She's going to think I'm crazy. A crazy, idiot asshole. Awesome. No way she's having sex with me. I wouldn't even have sex with me right now.

All of my thoughts cease the moment she opens the door. All I see is her. Her beautiful face, her mussed and tangled hair that's falling in perfect brown waves around her shoulders. And fuck me, she wearing this tiny little shirt and even tinier panties.

I want to say something. Truly, I do. But once again, there are no words. This woman always renders me speechless. But I have to try to say something, right? So, I open my mouth and there are no smooth words. Hell, there are no words at all. There is just this sound…like I'm a dying fucking animal. But Bella…fuck, she just reaches out for me with her perfect hand and all this tenderness. And there is no hope. None at all. There is just me flinging myself at her and covering her mouth with a kiss that's as frantic and needy as I feel.

And she tastes so good. So sweet and warm and wet as my tongue pushes inside her mouth. And she opens up to me. She opens up for me. And this kiss – as awkward as it is – is the best fucking kiss of my entire life. My hands are in her hair and I can't help moaning because I need her to know what I don't have the words to say. Even though they're playing on a loop inside my mind.

I need you.

I want you.

I have to have you.

Now.

I push the door closed with my foot and I turn her around and press her up against it. She's panting into my mouth and I suck in her breath and finally say her name.

"Bella," I rasp. "Oh, god…Bella."

"Edward."

My name coming from her voice is nothing more than a whisper…a breath. But I hear it all the way into my heart and soul. It's my name. She's saying my name like she wants me…like she needs me the same fucking way I need her.

My hands make their way from her hair and they trail down to the little sliver of skin that's showing between her shirt and her panties. My fingers press against the soft skin at the small of her back.

"I'm sorry," I say quickly, without thinking about my words. "I should have…I should have told you before. I should have…fuck, I should have shown you."

I look at her – her eyes that were sleepy and unfocused when she opened the door are now wide and heavy and staring back at me. And I still can't believe it's her. I still can't believe that she's here.

"I wanted you…I…I want you, Bella."

"I want you, too," she says, her voice husky and filled with a need I can barely fathom.

Suddenly, even though she's right here in my arms, she feels too far away. And there's too much clothing between us. I grab the hem of her shirt and lift it over her head before pulling my own off and throwing it on the floor. And I look down at her naked breasts – all perfect and round and soft with little pink nipples that I want to take in my mouth.

"Oh, god…I want to suck your nipples," I blurt out and then she gasps. You know…because she's normal. Unlike me who's acting like I've never seen a naked woman before. "I'm sorry," I say quickly. "It's just that…you, you're so beautiful and you're standing here naked in front of me. Well, not completely naked, but your breasts…they're…they're perfect. And just like the picture. Only they're real and not just some piece of paper that's all worn around the edges because I've been holding it in my hand at night while I…."

_Fuck._

_Really Edward? Seriously?_

I stop talking and look down because I'm sure she's mortified at my admission. And now she'll probably think I'm some sort of masturbating porn perv. Oh, god. I've already ruined this. What the fuck have I done?

"You really did that?" Her voice is soft…questioning. I nervously look back up to meet her eyes, my mouth completely dry and my throat feels like it's closing completely over. Her eyes are wide…soft…and she doesn't look like she's judging me. "You looked at the…at my picture? At night?"

Gulping painfully, I whisper the truth, "Yeah…I did. I…I…I couldn't help myself, Bella."

Reaching in between us, she takes my hand and guides it back up to her breast. And I watch in complete awe as our hands – hers and mine – touch her breast. Together. Her nipple is hard and I rub my thumb across it, riveted by the tiny goose-bumps that rise on her skin.

"And the reality…" she whispers. "You think it's better?"

"You have no idea," I say, the words escaping me in a rush of air.

Her eyes look back down to our hands, and I stand there watching her watching us touch her breasts. And the moment is too much. Too personal and perfect and I can't believe that I'm even a part of this at all.

"I like your hands on me," she whispers, still watching. "I think I'd like your mouth even more."

She blushes at her admission and I know right here – right here in this moment – there could never have been a more perfect woman for me.

"You…you would?" I ask, afraid to breathe.

Her eyes finally look up into mine and I can see the nervousness there, but I can also see the determination.

"You said you wanted to…to…suck my nipples before," she says and at the sound of her whispering such an erotic thing, my cock goes from merely hard to fucking steel. "I want you to. I want to feel your mouth on me."

"Oh, god," I say, every bit of the tension and anxiety I'm feeling leaking out of me. "I want that, too."

I look down at her breasts, and moving her hand out of the way, I cup them both. Full and heavy and so fucking soft in my palms. And Jesus, they're perfect. Just like her. Just like everything about her.

"Edward?"

"Yeah?" I manage to say, mesmerized by the fact that I'm touching her, holding her.

"Your mouth?"

"God, yes."

I lower my head – tentatively at first – but once my mouth reaches the swell of her breast, I just can't help myself. I want to be smooth, to kiss and lick and tease her, but I find myself pulling her flesh into my mouth and sucking more vigorously than I should. She doesn't seem to mind. In fact, fuck yes…her hands are in my hair, pulling me closer while she moans.

She tastes so good - soft and sweet and delicate skin. The skin of a woman. The fragrance of a woman. A real woman who I want and need when I haven't wanted or needed anyone in so fucking long.

"Bella," I moan against her chest. And I'm licking now, kissing her collarbones and pulling her flush against me. "Please."

"What?" she pants, gripping me tightly.

"I need you."

"I'm right here."

"No," I say. "I fucking need you…right now."

Stumbling, I take her to the bed. The sheets are messy from where she went to sleep alone before. But I realize that none of that matters as I push her softly to the mattress, knowing that when she goes to sleep again, it will be with me holding her in my arms. And the thought of that – just the fucking thought – makes me happy. It makes me fucking ecstatic.

"I want to…" I start, knowing what I'm feeling, but not entirely knowing how to explain. "I want it to be smooth. I want…I want so much to make this perfect for you. To be…just to be what you need…what you expect. But it's just…it's been so long….yeah. And god…you're…you…"

She brings her fingers to my mouth, stopping me with a gentle hush.

"I want you, Edward," she tells me. "Whatever that means…however you are."

And the sincerity in her voice tells me she means it. And with that, I kiss her. Deeply. Soundly. Freeing myself of my clothes a little too quickly to be considered anything close to suave, I kneel before her on the bed. I look at her – all naked and beautiful. Her messy hair is spread across the pillows, and her eyes that were so sleepy and unfocused when she opened the door are now wide…expecting.

My heart is pounding in my chest and I take a deep breath to steady myself. I need to be calm. I have to make this good for her. I run my hands up the inside of her legs. Her skin is like cream silk – soft and smooth. I lose my fucking mind the moment her pussy comes into view and opens up before me. Holy fucking Christ. I just can't believe how perfect she is. How pink and pretty and all woman…and I can see in the dim light of the room how much she wants this, too.

She is wet for me.

She wants to make love to me.

Leaning in, I take myself in my hand. God, my cock is throbbing with need. I try to run it along the inside of her pussy, but the moment I feel her soaked heat, I lose any and all control I ever imagined having. Forcing myself, I look at her once more – one moment to see her teeth bearing down on her bottom lip – one moment to see the flush on her body that's so open and accepting.

Accepting me.

And because it's too much…because it's absolutely more than I can stand…I push inside her in one long thrust.

"Oh, god," she cries, as I still myself.

I can't breathe, I can't see…I can't do anything except feel her gorgeous body as it stretches and covers me. It sucks me in and holds me there as I feel my dick throbbing and pulsing inside her. It's been a long time…so fucking long. But I can't remember it ever being like this. All tight and wet and slick heat that feels like it was made just for me.

"Are you okay?" I manage to grunt. I don't even sound human, but I can't think about that, when every instinct I have is zoned in and focused on the way she feels…the way I feel inside her. "Oh, God…Bella."

"Perfect," she whimpers, wrapping her arms and legs around me and bringing me into the cradle of her body. "I'm…you're perfect."

She feels this.

She feels the same way I do.

And with her words, I move inside her. I try to go slowly, but the pace becomes fevered…quick. I find that I am pushing…thrusting…chasing this feeling that I haven't felt in so long. And it's good…it's fucking amazing. And she meets each thrust - I feel her nails against my back, her heels against my ass. And I want to focus on her…I want to make this good for her…but before I know it and can understand what's happening, my orgasm blasts from within me. A million little explosions that set me on fire and I come into her…like…like a man who hasn't had sex in way too long.

My mind and body is still reeling from the intense pleasure and release she gave me when I realize…she didn't come.

_Fuck._

_She didn't fucking come._

"I'm sorry," I pant, still holding on to her because I have to. Even though I'm embarrassed. "I'm really fucking sorry."

Her hands come up to my face and she forces me to meet her eyes. "Why?" she asks. "Why are you sorry? That was…that was wonderful."

And she means it. Well, she looks like she means what she's saying.

Shaking my head, I tell her, "Because you didn't…I mean, I didn't…I didn't make you…"

Fuck, I can't even say it.

"No," she says softly, smiling. "You didn't…and unless you're telling me that it's over right this second…I'm pretty sure we have all night."

She laughs this soft laugh, but it's throaty and thick…understanding. Like she just knows what's about to happen. Oh…and it fucking will. I'm going to make Isabella Swan come if it's the last thing I do.

"I'm not going anywhere," I tell her, smiling, but with absolute seriousness. "Not unless you make me."

My cock is soft inside her, so I know that's out of the question – at least for a little while. It's been a long time, but I'm not eighteen anymore. Which is funny because right now, holding this woman in my arms – the same girl that I kissed on the beach in La Push all those years ago – makes me feel like I'm a teenager.

Her quiet giggle pulls me out from my thoughts of her and back to the reality of her.

The reality is so much fucking better.

"About that…I was thinking," she whispers, running her fingers through my hair. "Yeah…I was thinking that maybe…maybe…you could _make me_…"

"Make you what?" I ask, confused. "Leave?"

I pull her closer to me as if she could possibly think I wanted her to leave. She laughs again and I feel her breath on my neck before she presses her lips on the exact same spot.

"No," she whispers. "Make me…_come_."

I pull back to look at her because that is – hands down – the sexiest thing that anyone has ever said in the entire fucking history of time.

"Yeah?" I ask, kissing her lips and forcing myself not to ramble about how wonderful she is and how lucky I am to have found her…again and again and again.

"Ummm…yeah."

I make my way down her body, stopping at her breasts and kissing them both. They're both perfect, and as much as I love kissing and sucking them, I'm pretty sure my mouth on her breasts won't give us the desired outcome. You know…the one where's she crying my name as I give her multiple orgasms.

I lick a trail down her stomach, entirely too fascinated with her belly-button and the way she gasps as my tongue slips inside. Her reaction bodes well for what I'm about to do – for what I'm fucking ecstatic about doing.

"Edward," she pants. "Please."

I want to ask her what she wants me to do. I want her to tell me where she wants my mouth. But I'm pretty sure I'm not that guy. I don't know how to do the dirty-talking thing. But then she opens her legs as I slide down between them, a million words fill my head. And looking back up at her, I say, "God, you're so fucking beautiful."

It's not perfect, but it's all I can manage.

And then my mouth is on her….tasting and licking and praying that I can make this as good for her as she's made this for me.

And yeah…she comes twice before I'm hard enough to fuck her again.

Properly.

.

.

.

"I could stay here just like this with you all day," Bella says and I pull her closer to me.

Though it's early, we've been awake for a while, not really saying much. Just enjoying the quiet and each other. I don't know if I can explain what it was like to fall asleep holding her after making love to her again. In fact, I know I can't. There's nothing…no words…nothing. Just overwhelming feeling and a kind of happiness I never allowed myself to hope to find again. But it found me.

_She found me._

Just as I'm about to kiss her senseless and beg her to allow me to do exactly what she's suggesting, my cell phone rings. Groaning and hating to pull away from her, I get out of the bed and find the phone in my pants on the floor.

"Dad?" Jake's voice booms over the phone as soon as I answer. I crawl back in the bed beside Bella and she curls herself into the arm I hold out to her.

I'm struck by how right all of this feels.

It feels fucking great.

It feels completely like it's supposed to.

"Yeah, buddy…what's' up?"

"Where are you?" he asks. "Are you in our room? I want to come see you. Are we going to have breakfast? I'm hungry."

Bella's fingers are playing with the hair on my chest. I know she doesn't mean to, but she's making me hard again. I look down at her and she's smiling. Well, maybe she means to a little bit.

"Umm…uh…well, buddy…I uh…" I grab Bella's fingers and I bring them up to my lips in a silent kiss because I can't talk to Jacob while she's giving me an erection. It would be wrong. Really wrong. "I just came to Bella's room to ask her if she wants to go to breakfast with us."

I look at her apologetically. She just smiles and places her head on my chest. I like the way she wraps her arms around my waist. I like the way she feels. Fuck, I like the way that _all of this_ feels.

"Really?" he asks, sounding as excited as I feel. Which is impossible, because there's no way Jacob can be as excited about her as I am. "Does she like her eggs scrambled, too? And pancakes?"

"I don't know, buddy," I tell him, realizing that there is so much I don't know about her. But I want to. I want to know everything. "Why don't you ask her yourself when we go to breakfast?"

Bella's eyes look up at mine, questioning with a smile.

"Do you think she'll want to ride Space Mountain with me again?"

I lean over and kiss her on the tip of her nose, loving the way it crinkles as she smiles. Loving even more the feeling like I'm the one who put that smile there.

"Tell you what, you get ready….and when we get down to the restaurant, you can ask her that, too."

"Okay!" he says excitedly, hanging up the phone before I even have a chance to tell him goodbye.

"What was all that?" Bella asks.

"Jake…he's just…he's just really excited to see you again," I tell her. "Breakfast?"

She sighs, snuggling in closer and closing her eyes. "Mmmm….yeah."

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I know you said you wanted to…umm…you know…spend the whole day in bed. But I just can't."

I'm feeling nervous and I can't explain it. Well, that's not entirely true. I can explain it. I'm just not sure if I'm ready to explain it to her.

"Why are you apologizing?" she asks, sitting up and looking down at me. "And why are you tensing up? Edward, what's going on? Is everything okay?"

Her eyes are nervous now, too. And that's the last thing I want. Especially after everything we've shared. And the fact that she was just so happy a few seconds ago.

"I just…well, I just want you to know that I would love to do whatever would make you happy," I tell her, holding her eyes, wanting her to know that I'm telling her the truth. My heart is pounding, beating quickly. I swallow loudly and take a deep breath. "I don't know…well, I don't know what the future holds. I mean…I know what…what I want. But I need you to know…not that you don't…but I guess…I guess I just need you to know…"

"What?" she asks again. "What do you need me to know?"

"I'm sort of a package deal," I tell her. "Jake…he comes with me. And he's the most important thing in my life. Hell, he was the only thing in my life…until recently."

I smile nervously.

She starts to laugh. It's soft at first and it gets louder as she continues. She reaches out to me, taking my hands first and then pulling me into her arms. And whatever tension I was feeling, melts away as she holds me.

"Edward," she says through her laughter. "Are you crazy? Of course I know Jacob comes with you. Just as much as my inappropriate brother and his crazy wife come with me. And trust me…I think you're the loser in that deal. I adore Jacob. In fact…I think I fell in love with Jacob the moment I heard him speak on the radio."

My heart stops when I hear her talk about my son this way. It just stops in my chest and I sit there frozen for a minute, fighting the intense emotion that engulfs me. Afraid of scaring her and saying something really stupid or way too soon, I pull back to look at her again.

"And what about me?" I ask. "What did you think when you heard me on the radio?"

She snorts. No, really…she snorts and I love it. I love that she's real. She's real and she's here and I'm holding her in my arms.

"Meh," she shrugs, "you sounded okay. I mean you were no Jacob…"

She grins and I can't help but laugh at her words…at her…at this whole fucking situation that makes me feel like that happiest man on earth.

"Well, _no one _can be Jacob," I tell her.

"Really, though, like I fly across country to stalk everyone I hear on the radio, Edward?" she teases.

"So, you didn't think I was some pathetic loser whose son has to get him dates?" I ask, pulling her closer and running my hand down her bare back. I love the way she shivers in my arms. "Even if I only have an 'okay' voice?"

She kisses me on the cheek before dragging her thumb across my bottom lip. I force myself not to suck it into my mouth.

"No one would question your oral skills, Edward."

_Fuck._

"Ummm…you're the only one who knows about my…oral skills," I tell her, as my cheeks burn red while I think about what happened between us in this bed last night. "And I'm glad you're not questioning them."

"The only question I would have is when I would get to experience them again."

Her voice is thick and husky and I realize that we're never making it to breakfast. Not if my erection has anything to say about it.

"I'm not ready to let you go," I tell her, knowing that we fly back to Seattle tomorrow. It's too soon now that I've found her. Now that I know who she is and how much she really means to me. "What- I mean…where do you think we go from here?"

I look in her eyes. I don't mean to get so serious, but I need her to know how important this is to me. How important she is to me. This isn't just one night. This is countless nights and days leading up to finding her…to knowing her.

"I'm not ready to let you go either, Edward. It took fourteen years to get to this point," she says…like she's reading my fucking mind. "I don't want to waste anymore time."

And I kiss her because I have to. I kiss her to tell her everything my inadequate words can't. She is it for me. Somehow this woman is my beginning and my end. And maybe it's too soon to tell her that…so I try to show her the only way I can.

Pulling back, I ask her, "Are you sure you're ready to deal with my crazy family?"

"You're asking me about crazy family members?" she laughs again. "My brother's wife - who is also my best friend - wants a picture of your peen and sent you a picture of my boobs!"

"That reminds me…I need to send her flowers," I tell her. "Are you sure she's not related to Emmett?"

She kisses me again and grows quiet and contemplative in my arms. I can feel her heart beating against mine and once again, I'm overwhelmed by how right this all is. Wanting to reassure her, I whisper, "We will work it out, Bella. Whatever that means for the three of us."

"I can deal with anything," she whispers back. "_We_ can deal…together."

_Together._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

End notes:

Reviews are love. And okay, not as good as oral from Edward. Let's be real. But we still want them.

Marvar: Thank you for all the birthday wishes. My old ass cried at all the love. And speaking of love, please go read my present from my wifey called "Edward in the Afternoon." Oralward (he earns the name) is so hot, I died. It's gonna make you sweat…or grab a vibrator. And it's up for fic of the week at The Lemonade Stand.

Cosmogirl7481: So if you're not reading "Outbound" by aftrnoondlight, you totally should be. This Bella is wonderful and this Edward…well, panty-dropping hot doesn't begin to do him justice. I love this fic and you will too.

Follow us on twitter:

Cosmogirl7481 for the latest in hot fictional vamp sex and of course, pringlecancock.

marvar29 for…um, complaints about non-twi vamp sex and baseball and sporadic Rob tweets. I might retweet pringlecancock…but I make no promises.


	14. Chapter 14

.

.

.

.

.

I stretch leisurely across my messy bed. When I feel an ache in my nether regions, I realize I might've sprained something last night. Yeah, I used muscles I didn't know existed - so I was sore. But in a good way. Really good. Like "birds are singing" excellent.

I smooth the covers over myself and smoosh my pillow. Edward went back to his room to change only a few minutes ago, so it still smells like him - the fragrance can only be described as "yum" which is accurate because I wanted to eat him. Actually, I still smell like him. I'm not used to that. Unlike Edward, Mike was so fragrance-free he had an anti-scent. Like an aroma black hole. Gross. Why am I thinking about Mike? I wonder what Jasper would say if he analyzed that? Some latent emotional BS, most likely. I'd probably get committed if he knew my wacky thoughts.

Like I'd listen to that freak. If his patients only knew what he and Alice were up to...

Alice. She's probably dying to know what's going on. I reach for my phone and dial her number.

"So spill," she answers. Such a charmer.

"Good morning to you too, Alice. And you know I can't exactly kiss and tell," I say with a smile on my face that she can't see, but can probably hear because it's that wide. I am just a bit smug as I think about last night. Oh, we did way more than kiss. Though the kissing was pretty fucking awesome...especially down there...oh my. I'm getting all flushed.

"Shut up, Bella." I can hear her snort. "Kiss and tell, right. More like 'fuck all night.' I can practically smell the sex in your room. You're all sweaty from reliving it in your mind aren't you, you lucky whore," Alice says with a laugh.

"You shut it, Alice," I retort. I'm not sweaty. Just basking in the afterglow.

"Was it good at least? Your DILF has been out of commission for a while. Wait, he's a D.I.D.F. - dad I did fuck!" She breaks into peals of laughter. She sounds like a hyena. Alice is not known for her dulcet tones. Even Jasper will admit that. Well, not to her.

"It was amazing, Alice. He's amazing..." I sigh. Edward Cullen might've had a dry spell for two years, but damn, it was like he was saving all that pent up sexual energy and it exploded into me last night.

"Oh my god, Bella. It sounds like he blew out your uterus with his nuclear come." She giggles. "You might have a radioactive vadge now."

"Shit. I said that out loud? And stop making fun of us. I'm not radioactive...but I might be glowing." I giggle. I can't help it. I'm giddy.

"Damn. Edward fucked you silly. Good. It's about time. Mike was a loser. He couldn't have been hitting that right. No wonder you were so testy for the last year."

"I was not testy," I say defensively. I hear another loud snort. "I had some bitchy moments sometimes. And...well, you're right about Mike," I mutter.

"Of course I am. Bella, why do you think I'm always so upbeat? Jasper knows how to put the 'O' in 'Oh yes.' Usually multiple times. I'm only moody when I run out of Funyons or chocolate."

"You _are_ a very happy person unless someone messes with your snack foods."

"Everyone has an Achilles heel. Mine is just deep-fried...Ohhhhh...mmm, yeah," I hear Alice moan.

"Alice, are you eating in bed?" I ask.

"No, Jasper is. I gotta go, Bellaaahhhh-"

Um, right. That kinda ruined my post-sex buzz.

.

.

.

.

.

Here in the happiest place on Earth, I'm feeling a little emo. I know my Edward Cullen fantasy is coming to an end soon.

So I do what any normal girl would - I refuse to leave Fantasy Land.

What? The teacups are awesome. Except when Emmett barfed up his corn dog. Lucky Rosalie had sat out that ride.

It's sort of ridiculous how I just fit in with his family. Not just with Jake - who is wonderful, but his sister and brother-in-law, too. It's like Edward and I have been together for years and not just two days. I feel complete with them. With him. It's so Jerry Maguire, I know. Only I have brown hair and he's the one with the cute kid. Maybe Emmett can be the Cuba Gooding character. And Edward has to be the young Tom Cruise before he went nuts and started jumping on Oprah's couch.

But I digress. It is Fantasy Land, after all. I fit in here - me with the life like the movies and crazy family. Me, Bella Swan who found the love of her life on the radio.

Yes, I think I'm in love with him, and I don't care if it's crazy. I believe in magic. I have to, because he's leaving tomorrow morning. And I have no idea what's going to happen. But the burning looks, the intimate touches, the way he kisses me...I just...he must...

"Bella, what are you thinking about? You seem far away," Edward asks, interrupting my thoughts. His green eyes, the ones that make me melt a little (ok, a lot), are filled with concern. He reaches for my other hand and turns me to face him completely. Emmett, Rosalie, and Jake are waiting for churros (Alice would be jealous), so we are alone - if you don't count the thousands of tourists around us.

"I'm just having such a wonderful time. I - I don't want it to end." I blink, trying not cry.

"It's not going to end. It can't."

His face shows that neither of us is talking about a ride, but he flashes me his perfect grin and makes everything better. Just like that.

Yeah, he's that good. Like Mary Poppins, if Mary was a six foot, two-inch fuckhot man. A spoonful of sugar, indeed. I'd rather have a mouthful of Edward. Mmmm.

Tonight.

.

.

.

.

.

"You are putting a serious dent into my cookie dough. Good thing I bought the tub from Costco," Alice says. "I love that place." The sound is slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth, so she sounds like Scooby Doo -_ I rove rat race. _Nice. No wonder Jake loves me. I think like an eight-year-old.

"The salt from my tears is actually tasty with the dough," I choke out between sobs.

"Oh, Bella," she says with concern, "just don't get any snot in there. You'll contaminate the tub."

"Thanks, Alice. Way to cheer me up."

"Okay, explain what happened. I'm failing to see why you are snot-sobbing."

"I just miss him…them. I finally have everything I every wanted, and now it's thousands of miles away."

"Does he not have a webcam? You won't believe what Jasper and I do on the computer when he's away at conferences."

"It's not the same. And you're right. I wouldn't believe the stuff you two are up to. And don't tell me about it. Like ever."

"Whatever, Bella. Like you're not going to be doing the same thing."

"Probably not, Al. I don't have double jointed hips and a tantric chair."

She rolls her eyes at me. "Anyways...finish telling me what happened. And don't skimp on the sex part. I'm still mad that you didn't bring me a churro."

.

.

.

"_It will work, Bella. I promise. I will do everything I can to make it work." He's holding my hands and his green eyes are so earnest, I have to believe him. I shift closer to him, because I need to be as close as possible. I'd crawl inside him if I could. _

"_It's so far away...I - I -" I stammer. I should be under control - I might scare him away with my emo-ness._

_"We will talk and text and email, and we both said we'd fly out whenever we could. And you are worth all of the effort. Plus, I think Jake would like to come back to Florida." He brushes the hair out of my eyes with our entwined hands, and kisses my wrist. This simple gesture wrecks me and I suck in a deep breath to calm myself. _

_I'm sure that I love him in that moment. But it's too soon to tell him anything. He'll think I'm insane. Everything I've done so far is evidence of that, and I don't need more reasons for him to end this. _

"_What are you worried about? And don't tell me you're not worried. You are. I can tell." he says. "Because I'm sure about this. If it wasn't for Jake, I'd move to Florida...I hope you know that...and I - I love...that you're willing to move to Seattle after your contract is up."_

_"Edward, I'm sure that I want this...and you. I just - What if you..." I swallow loudly, "what if you get tired of waiting for me?" _

_"Bella, listen to me," he says, pulling me close. God, he smells good. "After Emily…well, I never thought that I would find anything like this again. I didn't think I'd ever want to. But then, there you were. There you are. And you're amazing…you're perfect. And not just for me. Jacob adores you. I don't want to let you go. And if you'll let me…I won't. No amount of time is gonna change that."_

_._

_._

_._

"Oh, my god, he said that? Swoon," Alice exclaims. "I hope you at least blew him. Did you do that thing with the balls I was telling you about? Jasper goes nuts when-"

"Alice."

"All right. Geez. You'd think all that sex would've loosened you up. Continue."

_._

_._

_._

_I hug Rose and Emmett goodbye when we reach the gate. I'll miss them too. We've really bonded over the last few days, and they've been surprisingly supportive of our relationship. Knowing Edward has such a great family only makes him that much more attractive. Like he needs bonus points. They wave as they leave; Rose gives Edward a sad smile like she knows this is going to suck. _

_It will. _

_Jake remains with Edward and me. It's time to say goodbye._

_I don't wanna._

_I wonder if airport security will arrest me if I throw a tantrum? Getting led away in handcuffs is probably not how I want Edward to remember me, so I manage to control myself. Besides, I need to save money for cross-country plane tickets, so bail isn't in my budget. _

_"Bella," his voice pulls me from my ridiculous musings, "it's time."_

_He pulls me close and wraps his arms around me. I sigh, feeling strong arms and firm body pressed against me. This. This is what I'll miss the most. The warmth and comfort of his embrace. Skype sex and dirty texting can't replicate this feeling. Nothing can replicate this feeling._

_"Edward," I choke out. I'm unable to produce any other coherent speech._

_"I know, Bella. I feel the same. You have no idea...how much I -"_

_Jake grabs on to us, interrupting Edward's thoughts. He's obviously feeling left out of our little love fest. Edward lets me go and I crouch down and hug Jake._

_"Oh, Jakey. I'm going to miss you so much."_

_"Bye, Bella. Love you," Jake says. The words tumble easily out of his mouth. I wish I could express my feelings so simply. But adults make everything so fucking complicated. But caring for Jake is something I don't have to worry about. _

_"Love you, too, Jacob. Take care of your dad for me. Someone is going to need to love him until I get there," I whisper in his ear. I stand up and give him a watery smile. _

_"And when you get to Seattle you can love us both, right?" he asks, eyes hopeful. _

_A hand with long, beautiful fingers grasps mine. The other hand is holding Jake's. _

_"How about it, Bella? Are you going to love us? Because...we love you."_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

End Notes: _Only the epi to go…_

Reviews are like declarations of love from Edward. Ok, not really. But they're still pretty awesome.

Thank you so much for all the support for this story. We wish we could thank you personally…with some Rob porn or whatever.

Follow us on twitter – cosmogirl7481 and marvar29.

And check out cosmogirl's new story, "Solstice." It's emotional and real.


End file.
